


The Other You

by Maerynn, Totally_lucky



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 25 years old, Estranged friends to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Good intentions done in the worst way possible, Good intentions gone horribly wrong, Identity Reveal, MariChat shenanigans, Misunderstandings, Rebuilding of Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerynn/pseuds/Maerynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_lucky/pseuds/Totally_lucky
Summary: At twenty-five, Marinette Dupain-Cheng's life is suddenly turned upside-down. Her boss is gone, the entire company is going haywire, she's confronted to a past she thought long behind her and the previously clean, straight lines defining her relationship with an old friend are getting blurry. Will she break under the pressure, or will she rise from her own ashes like a phoenix?





	1. Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, we're really excited for this. We've been talking about writing something together for a very long time, and now is finally the time!  
> So buckle up guys, cause this is going to be quite a ride!

Gabriel Agreste’s death had been sudden, and unexpected.

Only a few weeks before the premiering of his first ever women apparel collection, the famous fashion mogul had succumbed to a violent stroke in the early hours of the morning in his personal office, apparently busy reviewing the latest designs that had been submitted to him.

Few could state without lying that they would miss their boss. Gabriel had proven on more than one occasion to be solely driven by results, by success, with no considerations whatsoever towards his employees. Even fewer could say honestly that they would miss the man, for his late years had only cemented the cold and heartless facade he had forged throughout the years, setting the image of an implacable leader into stone despite himself.

Over the years he had even alienated his very own son, with whom he had fallen out of touch as soon as Adrien had been old enough to stand up for himself and make his own decisions. Persistent rumors through the years suggested that Gabriel had disowned his son as a result of his desertion of the company, but seeing as Adrien found himself the sole owner of _Gabriel Designs_ following his father’s sudden passing, either those rumors were wrong or Gabriel had forgiven his only heir somewhere along the way.

Which could have been fine, if the company had been left into capable hands, which unfortunately wasn’t the case. Gabriel Agreste had never entrusted anyone with his company’s well-being, with any important decision regarding his brand. Even his almost lifelong personal assistant, Nathalie Sanscoeur, had been merely blindly obeying orders without ever questioning them for most of her employment amongst _Gabriel Designs,_ and yet she probably would’ve been the person the most qualified to assure a smooth transition.

Coincidentally, Nathalie had gone into a well-deserved retirement only a few weeks before Gabriel’s ultimate demise, around the same time Gorilla definitely hung up his luxury sedan keys and moved away to the seashore, admittedly to catch up with his growing too fast grandkids.

That only meant that the week following Gabriel Agreste’s passing was pure chaos as far as _Gabriel Design’_ s remaining staff and stock holders were concerned.

The artistic team was left without a leader to look up to, ideas and designs going nuts and wild without anyone to organize them and separate the wheat from the chaff.

The accounting team was going crazy, dealing with the sudden and massive increase in resignations, the suppliers incessants calls wondering if they’d ever get paid, the stock holders demanding answers about the uncertain future of the company.

The company lawyers were for the most part completely unreachable, busy as they were trying to figure out what exactly were the ramifications of their CEO sudden death and their impacts. Who would take over the company if Adrien Agreste chose to surrender his notoriously unwanted position? Would he choose to sell the company to a third-party, and if he did so, what did that entail? What would happen to the collections already out? The work-in-progress?

Above all, as the head designer of the upcoming brand new women’s line, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was probably the most sleep-deprived, stressed-out, and overall most exhausted employee amongst the entire _Gabriel’_ s staff. The young woman had spent the better part of the past week trying to ease boring and ludicrous ideas out of the designers working under her for _Gabriel’_ s line of work, with mixed success at it would seem.

The rational part of her brain wanted to leave all of the succession stuff dealing to the Agreste lawyers, to bury herself beneath a pile of luxury fabric and only come back up once everything would’ve been cleared out and been dealt with.

Because as things were currently, everything in her life was going to shambles.

At twenty-five, a formation in fashion from ESMOD and an unexpected exclusive apprenticeship under Gabriel Agreste himself in her pocket, she was living in a pitiful two-bedroom apartment she shared with Alya and Nino, desperately trying to gather enough savings to get a place of her own. But rent in the middle of Paris was expensive, and she basically didn’t own any furniture. Her salary as Gabriel’s head designer of the women department was more than decent, but it still wasn’t enough live on her own.

So she had to put up with the ups and downs of living with a very in love young couple, whereas she had yet to go on a second date with a man, let alone have a boyfriend. Alya was relentlessly picking up on her about that, pointing out mercilessly how she was married to her job, and wondering how in the world _fashion_ would make her kids. Usually, Marinette would shrug and effortlessly shift the conversation on another topic, but lately, the dangerous cocktail of exhaustion and anxiety for her future in the industry brewing up within her coupled with Alya’s growing irritation toward her friend’s numerous disappearances and secrets had sparked more than one nasty argument between the pair of best friends.

As a result, Marinette was carefully avoiding going home as much as she could.

She had spent the week running up and down every corridor, making sure the collection would come out without a hitch despite being carried over by a boat without a captain. She worked herself to the bone, overcompensating for the huge loss the team had just suffered. Marinette spent her days putting off fires, avoiding catastrophe after catastrophe, and spent her evenings working on Gabriel’s last designs, bringing them to completion. Going home way past any decent hour every single day, making sure every design was on point, that every cloth was sewn up to par.

It had truly been a week from hell as far as she was concerned.

Even without her less than ideal housing situation, she still would’ve stayed in late every day. Her mentor, her boss was six-feet-under, but Marinette couldn’t envision letting him down. Even if Gabriel definitely lacked warmth in his social interactions, he had taught her so much over the last few years that she felt the least she could do was to hold up the fort for him. He had given her an unexpected opportunity by putting her into the head designer shoes, had believed in her against all odds, and the very idea of betraying his trust even if he wasn’t there to witness it anymore was making her sick to her stomach.

Even if staying instead of leaving the boat meant encountering Adrien Agreste in some corridor sooner or later.

Pushing that idea as far as she could, Marinette kneeled in front of her dress form, carefully hemming one of the designs she and Gabriel had been working on last. They had talked about this dress, only a few hours before his unexpected death, and she wanted the final result to live up to his expectations, an homage of some sort.

Refusing to look at the clock, knowing it was already way later than what would be deemed reasonable, Marinette took a step back, admiring her work. The dress was gorgeous, flowing nicely around the dress form, but it was lacking that little playful flair Gabriel had been envisioning for it.

Struck with a sudden idea, she promptly rose from her work station and marched to Gabriel’s office, as she had done countless times before. She knew for a fact that he kept  a nice assortment of satin ribbons in there, specifically a pretty pink velvet one that would add just the perfect touch to the garment.

What she hadn’t expected, though, was to find another living being in Gabriel’s office.

A familiar mop of blond hair was sprawled out on her late boss desk, broad and muscular shoulders slumped as she heard a loud and desperate groan.

She paused on the threshold for a second, her heart caught in her throat, wondering if she could get away with picking up the ribbon she needed without being seen, and that brief hesitation was her demise. As if he had felt her presence in the room, the man suddenly straightened up, and green eyes bore into hers, widening in surprise.

Marinette couldn’t hold back a gasp at the sight of the man that had haunted her dreams for so many years. Sure enough, he had aged a bit since the last time their paths had crossed, and the years had been kind to him. His face had shed the roundness of his youth, bringing out a more shard, angular jaw, and his hair was bit darker than it used to be, with a low fade haircut that accentuated his older, more mature appearance.

A single word kept replaying in Marinette’s mind as the handsome sight in front of her, _danger._

Realizing she was gaping at him, Marinette mentally slapped herself across the face and promptly slipped back into her professional shoes. “Oh. I’m really sorry, Monsieur Agreste,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking as much as she heard, “I hadn’t realized I wasn’t alone in the building, I would’ve never barged in like that otherwise. I just need some supplies and then I’ll show myself out.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow at that, but the dark circles underneath his eyes made it hard for him to analyze her words more than he should’ve. He was tired, so tired, and he still had exams to grade once he’d managed to get home, exams that couldn’t wait his replacement. His head felt ready to explode, and his eyes were getting blurry from staring at numbers and statistics that didn’t make any sense to him. He wanted nothing more than to go home, go back to his classroom and forget all about thread, silk and pleats.

He watched, silently, as the young woman gracefully tiptoed through the room with the ease of someone who was more than accustomed with her surroundings. She opened a nearby cabinet without hesitating and foraged within, her entire torso disappearing into the apparent mess of fabrics and various sewing furnitures. Less than thirty second later, she emerged apparently victorious, holding a roll of what seemed to be ribbon.

She looked at him again, and the odd sense of familiarity that refused to leave him ever since she had laid eyes on him striked again. He _knew_ that girl, he was now sure of it, but from where? And if he indeed knew her, why was she so formal toward him, so professional?

Unaware of his musings, she quietly greeted, “I- Sorry for disturbing you, Monsieur. Goodnight.”

She turned her back on him, walking toward the door, but not before Adrien could have another glimpse of the unique hue of her eyes. Bluebell, bubbly eyes, that only two women in his life shared as far as he was concerned. “Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath as she spun on her heels, facing him again with widening eyes. “I’m sorry?”

Adrien rose from his seat, rounding the heavy desk promptly to close the distance between them. “You are Marinette, aren’t you? We went to school together, back in Mlle Bustier’s class, with Nino and Al-”

“I remember you perfectly well, Monsieur Agreste.”

He smiled at her, putting his hands on her shoulders, completely oblivious to her sharp tone and guarded expression, “You can drop the _Monsieur,_ Mari, you just can’t know how much I’m glad to see a friendly face in here. What have you been up to all this time? We sure fell out of touch!”

She sustained his gaze, and he almost took a step back when he saw absolutely no warmth in the familiar blue eyes. Her voice was as cold and professional as it was before when she answered, stepping away from his touch just like his hand was a burning flame, “The last time we interacted, _Monsieur Agreste,_ I recall you being a major ass toward me, with all due respect. Can I please get back to work now?”

Marinette saw Adrien gulp in front of her, carefully eyeing her. For a moment he looked like he was trying to figure out what to say, but then he deflated, sighing pitifully, “Very well. I still have those fabrics to pick, anyway, and not a single clue about what I’m doing. Have a nice evening, Marinette.”

Marinette froze, her heart stilling in her chest.

Deep down, she _knew_ she shouldn’t care.

Adrien’s problems weren’t in any way her own, and if someone had seen it fit to put a physics teacher in charge of an entire fashion house, well so be it. She had no say in the matter.

Someone probably had decided to give him that menial task to keep his sheer incompetence away from what really mattered, an initiative she could only applaud.

But on the other hand, Gabriel had always been a man she admired greatly despite his cold facade, and the years she had spent working by his side hadn’t changed that. He was a brilliant designer, and had literally dedicated up to his very last day to his art. She couldn’t stand the thought of letting Adrien ruin his father’s hard work - even if it was only ordering lousy fabric - not if she could help it.

She had worked too hard to let him get in the way, and if she had to help him to earn herself the freedom of running her line like she wanted to, then she’d do it.

She glanced at the papers scattered on the desk behind him and frowned, “Don’t buy anything from Cosetti, he holds the weirdest grudge against your father for refusing to incorporate chiffon in the 2015 winter line. There’s a good chance he’ll try to scam you. And I’ve seen swatches of the silk, Berkley’s might be more expensive but it's severely lacking in quality. Zinya’s cheaper, better, _and_ their seller is a real sweetheart.”

Adrien stared at her, dumbfounded, and it took him almost a full minute to find his voice again, “But- But, why would you help me? After-”

Marinette walked past him, shoulders tensed and a familiar determined spark in her eyes, a spark he recognized from someone else without being able to pinpoint who, “Believe it or not, some of us actually rely on this company for a living, and I’m not letting it sink without putting up a fight. What else did you need to settle on?”

The young man blinked, and his professional persona kicked him. He joined her on the other side of the desk to show her the supplier submissions, tentatively pointing out what little progresses he had made. She effortlessly picked up where he had left, giving him cues on their current relationship with various suppliers and grossly showing him the ropes of managing a fashion empire.

Her tone toward him was cold, yet polite, and she was efficient. It was clear she knew what she was talking about like the back of her hand, and soon enough she pushed the last submission toward him so he could sign it, getting up as she grabbed her spool of ribbon.

“Mari? Thanks, I wouldn’t have made it without you, and-”

“Don’t.” Marinette cut him off. “I helped you only because my job is on the line. Good evening, Monsieur.”

She then left Gabriel’s office in a tensed and stubborn silence, neither of them willing to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

* * *

Later that night, Ladybug landed gracefully atop the Eiffel Tower, sitting beside her partner on one of the higher beams with a soft sigh.

He peered at her, surprised, “Patrol’s all done with at this hour, my Lady. And I thought you were going to lay off on the patrols for a bit?”

She stared at the horizon for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between them. His question still hovered, unanswered, but he knew her well enough to figure she was trying to organize her thoughts. Nearly a decade of knowing each other meant that most things could go unsaid between the pair.

Eventually she scooted closer to him on the beam, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, a comforting gesture that had became customary between them. She laid her head on his shoulder, sighing again.

“What’s wrong, Bug? Won’t your roommate be mad at you for disappearing again?”

She scoffed, reaching for his free hand and lacing her fingers through his. “I’ll get an earful once I get home for sure. But I needed that. I needed a breather with my best friend, my safe haven.”

He tensed a bit hearing those words, “That bad?”

“This last week has truly been hell, and I missed you like crazy,” Ladybug sighed softly.

Chat Noir groaned inwardly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “This boss of yours is some special kind of jerk if he left you guys in so many troubles upon quitting.”

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she was insulting Gabriel Agreste’s late memory by letting her partner tarnish his reputation freely like this. But with news of his sudden death all over the news and the fact that Chat Noir knew fairly well that his partner was working in fashion, there was no way she could set the record straight without giving away some compromising clues.

Instead, she settled on answering quietly, pressing a reassuring kiss on his cheek, “It’s not like he had a choice. He had urgent personal matters to attend to, and we’ll be alright… eventually,” she trailed off, her eyes following his to their very own private view of Paris. “How’s your relative?”

Chat Noir squirmed uncomfortably beside her, and she instantly regretted asking the question that had been burning her lips for the past week. But ever since he had showed up unfashionably late to a patrol because of a mandatory trip to the hospital, she had been worried about that relative of his who was close enough to the superhero to warrant an immediate visit at the hospital, but in the meantime far enough that he was barely fazed by the whole ordeal.

“He…” Chat Noir began slowly, carefully avoiding her gaze, and in a sudden flash of clarity, she understood. Understood that the sick/injured relative wasn’t part of their world anymore, and that her dear kitty was grieving, in his own very personal way.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, kitty, can I do anything for you?” she cried, twisting in his embrace so she sat in his lap instead of beside him.

He smiled at her, a forlorn smile that looked every single piece fake on his handsome face. “Don’t worry about me, my Lady, I’ll manage. Get back to your roommate, things are bad enough between you two as it is. I’d like you to survive the week, you know?”

She hated to admit it, but Ladybug knew he was right. If the last week was any indication, she was probably get in an awful fight as soon as she’d set foot in her appartment.

But this?

Chat Noir’s unwavering support, his kind words and reassuring presence over the last decade? The familiar warmth of his arms wrapped around her?

It was worth it, and a thousand times more.

Smiling softly, she eyed him playfully, “And when did you become the voice of reason among us two?”

“Ever since you started to believe working eighty hours a week was healthy. Go home, and get some _sleep._ You’re barely able to keep your eyes open.”

She leaned on him for a second, taking in his warmth. “Alright, silly cat. See you tomorrow?”

“As always, my lady. Go before she snaps at you again.”

She quickly pressed her lips against his cheek and, with a last small smile and an all too brief hug, she took off into the night, leaving her counterpart to his silent musings on the tower.


	2. Past Mistakes

Barely able to move anymore after a stressful, longer than usual day, Adrien released the transformation and flopped on his bed face first. Who thought that the idea of him running a fashion house after teaching a class full of teenagers the principles of physics was a good idea? Add the obligatory patrol as Chat Noir on top and you've got yourself a walking, sleep-deprived disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, a satisfactory sigh escaped Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow, followed by a quiet whisper, “I am so tempted to just sleep right now. There is always a morning for changing and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need a disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably kwami-free one. _I did not sign up for this gross, touchy-feely stuff, kid!”_ he scolded. “Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being a witness to all merry-go-rounds around each other?”

“I wish we could,” Adrien murmured from under the comforter he’d already climbed under. “I would’ve done it a long time ago but back then Ladybug didn't want that. I guess she was somewhat right. It was kind of dangerous for us to know who we are under the masks.”

“But now Hawkmoth is gone, Adrien. Why do you need to keep this secrecy up?” Plagg finished wiping himself with a sanitizing moist towelette and dived right into his stash of Camembert in a nearby tiny fridge. The fridge was set apart especially for the smelly goodness and was actually Adrien’s idea after a few rather late arrivals when the man was too tired to even think of getting up and going all the way to a kitchen for Plagg’s energy supply. The black discrete appliance even had a “Do Not Touch” magnetic sign on the door accompanied by a few neon green paws stickers.

“That’ s true. We don’t have to keep that the secret anymore but Ladybug is going through pretty tough times at the moment,” Adrien replied, kicking off his shoes from under the covers. His clothes were already on the floor as he stretched and snuggled around his pillow. “I can’t dump the relationship stuff on her now. She has a job that takes all of her time and attention since that jerk of a boss left suddenly. Plus her roommate, her ‘ _best friend_ ' may I add, that scolds her all the time now. She may have good intentions since most arguments seemed to be related to unexplained absences and lack of any love life but still, it doesn't excuse her behavior.”

“Ladybug needs a friend now, Plagg, not another thing to work on and even the most of perfect relationships need work on both sides to succeed. I simply can’t put that kind of pressure on her now. I'll support her as a friend..." Adrien yawned and turned around, hinting to his kwami that the conversation was over. His mind was made up. This wasn't the right time yet. Not when his precious Lady was going through so much she could barely function. Chat Noir needed to be her support and someone she would know would always be there for her. He could wait until Ladybug would actually have time for him and their love. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid, he was running a risk of ruining everything before it even started.

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and turned around in his little bed as well. “Goodnight, kid.”

"Goodnight, Plagg," Adrien smiled lightly. His thoughts raced back to his Lady, to the extremely easy, dangerously close friendship they developed. A light push from either side was all that was needed to surely plunge them into a romantic relationship territory. The day this would happen, Adrien would do his best to make her the happiest girl in all of France. He’d be certain to never take her for granted, to always-

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg grumbled from his little house. “It’s creepy to love-sickly grin in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your can?”

“I don’t need to _see_ it. I can feel it all the way here. Now shut up and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours of sleep left.”

Tons of work… Adrien sighed. Plagg was right. With his father’s sudden passing that damned company was dumped on him like an ice bucket on a hot summer day. At first, he had absolutely no idea what to do with it, not that he even wanted, remembering the argument with Gabriel that sent his life haywire all those years ago. Then, selling his shares sounded quite alluring. Yet as he was just about decided, one of his good friends and colleagues at the college suggested that Adrien should go there, try it for himself and only then decide what to do. If in a month or so he wouldn’t like it, he could always sell his shares. That was what Adrien was doing now - trying to decide if he wanted to follow his father's footsteps or stick with what he thought he liked for himself.

 _My father’s footsteps_ , he sadly smiled. _Not in a million years…_

Gabriel’s famous obsession with his work ruined Adrien’s childhood. Isolated, no friends and freedom for years, the boy held only the bitterest memories from that time. Receiving absolutely zero affection from adults in his life, especially from his father, Adrien rebelled as soon as he could. Once he turned fifteen, he started to run away from home in order to could attend a local school. Then he befriended people whom his father deemed to be a ‘bad influence’, people like Nino, Alya and Marinette.

 _Marinette_ …

Adrien clenched his fists, his breath hitching in his throat, sleep completely escaping his body at once. He only tried to _protect_ her. He never meant to harm or be mean to her but, being honest, he could see why she would think so. He could’ve probably chosen a better way to go about it. In addition, the timing was as wrong as could be. A messy situation indeed.

The day they graduated college Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable but she told him how much he meant to her and for how long she had harbored those feelings for him. The fear and anxiety behind her precious smile was plainly visible and raising her eyes to look at him after finishing her speech was of a little consolation. Heartbreak took over Adrien’s face. He loved Marinette, he really did, but as a dear, close friend only. His heart wasn’t his own for a long time already so even if he wanted to give it to Marinette he couldn’t. It belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they met.

Marinette understood everything without any words being spoken. She shyly apologized and escaped before Adrien could even do as little as to whisper an apology.

A few days later Adrien learned that she applied for an internship at his father’s company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew very well what this man could do to people as shy and as nice as Marinette. Sure, from sidelines working at the hottest fashion house around looked glamorous and exciting yet in reality there were only two options - it either would squash you and you’d have a nervous breakdown or you would become like his father - cold and emotionless, going over people’s lives and feelings, sacrificing everyone and everything in your life for your career, having absolutely no life yourself. There was no in-betweens and exceptions as far as Adrien knew.

_He couldn’t let any of those happen to Marinette._

She was precious, she was amazing and he loved her. Maybe not romantically but he did. Letting her blindly go working for his father and ruin her future was something Adrien couldn’t see himself allow to happen without a fight. With the talent Marinette possessed, she would be welcomed by any other fashion house with open arms.

That was how he got the idea. That was why a few days later Adrien committed the crime that ruined his friendship with Marinette forever yet it was the only thing he hoped would prevent an inevitable ruin of his dear friend - he stole her file from his father’s office and planned to slip it in a few of the other companies he knew would be a much better fit than his father’s would ever be. Having branched out his modeling to other companies as well by that time, Adrien had certainly had the opportunity to do so. He hoped Marinette would never find out who did it but would be pleasantly surprised to be accepted by other giant corporations. He prayed she’d think she was rejected by Agreste and move on to something else that wouldn’t wreck her life forever.

All he needed was to make a few copies and gave them to the right people at the right time...

He was wrong. Very, very wrong.

A few days later Alya and Nino came to visit. Their visit was more a way to announce that they started dating but none of it mattered now. They dragged him out of the house in a hurry, picked up Marinette on their way and went to celebrate. Adrien had simply forgotten to take that damn file out of the bag he always had with him when going modeling. Quite contrary he put it there himself just an hour ago because tomorrow he was supposed to work at his father’s biggest competitor. That fashion house was the first on his list of getting Marinette a job.

All throughout the day, being overly excited, no one but him seemed to really notice just how sad Marinette looked, how pale her skin was, how uncertainty wouldn’t escape her eyes. Adrien assumed that this was caused by his rejection, still weighing heavily on her heart. He wasn’t all that comfortable himself at all. Marinette was pretty, really pretty and had such an amazing character but what could he do? Until Ladybug would marry some other guy he couldn’t even think of letting anyone else in his heart. And even then, he didn't know if he would stop loving her.

The day went wonderfully, they had fun but just as his luck would have it, Alya needed something and going to the washroom, Adrien told her to take it out of his bag. Reality hit him hard on his way back. Returning, Adrien could sense that it was too late even before he saw their table. The banter and laughter were gone. Instead, all three of his friends met him with stone faces. Marinette was holding her file, tears gathering in her eyes. Looking at her, he sadly noticed that warmth she held for him before in his eyes was gone.

“Is that the reason why no one could find my file when I called them three days ago?” she asked. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well. They couldn’t find it because you stole it?” Marinette hastily got up, picked up her stuff and walked closer. “Why, Adrien?” she whispered. "I can understand you not loving me back. You can't control your heart. This, however, I find hard to even believe. How cruel could you be? Why?”

The words were stuck in Adrien’s throat as he watched in shock Marinette breaking even more before him. His stunned silence seemed to fuel her already formed in the rush, wrong idea. He scrambled to explain but it was too late. Marinette raised her hand and said quietly, “You know, what? I don’t want to hear that. I’ve had enough. I thought we were friends, Adrien. But then, friends support each other so I guess I was wrong.”

She walked away not even giving him a chance. Without letting him tell her about a huge argument he had just over a week ago with his father about his own future in the company. Gabriel would not even listen about a teaching degree but Adrien was not a child anymore either to simply stay quiet and not fight for his dreams. The things had escalated quite a bit and as a result by the end of the month Adrien was forced to move out, living on the money he had saved up from his modeling career and his current contracts. That argument solidified Adrien’s resolve to get Marinette a better job, to protect her from his father. That, however, she didn't let him explain. Instead, she turned around without any more words and walked away.

Neither did Alya or Nino.  

“I can’t believe you, Agreste,” Alya snarled, walking by. Nino just kept looking down as he followed her. Neither of them returned his calls, emails and texts ever again despite him desperately trying to explain everything. At the end, Adrien suspected that not single one of them even bothered to do as little as to simply listen or read them. They might have even blocked him altogether. Soon Adrien gave up himself. There was only so little he could do at that time. Alone, rejected by his father, wrongfully accused and tossed aside by his friends, he changed his number, email and address and tried to move on.  

The first few weeks into his teaching degree was quite miserable for Adrien until one of his classmates decided to give the former rich kid a chance. Soon he had a few new friends yet they never became so special to him. Don’t get him wrong, they were good and Adrien had fun with them yet he often wondered if anyone would ever be able to replace his first real friends, the ones that opened this world for him in a way. The loss of everything he had hit him hard but despite everything, Adrien didn’t regret taking his chances in trying to stop Marinette from entering his father’s company. Quite the opposite, he thought he would’ve never forgiven himself if he hadn’t tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

At the same time, Adrien’s relationship with his father went south even more, taking a sharp turn for the worse if that was even possible. The little time he was still living at the mansion, Gabriel was seemingly disgusted to be even in the same room, limiting their conversations to only the absolute necessities, and as soon as Adrien moved out to his own apartment Gabriel neither called nor visited. Adrien didn’t want to go to the house he was raised in either. Soon they’ve become as good as strangers.

Years passed, nothing changed. Adrien graduated and was currently working as a physics teacher at a local college, ending his modeling career as soon as he signed his contract. He never heard much from Gabriel until a few weeks ago when his lawyer called him from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything. A little too late for that but in his heart Adrien mourned nevertheless. Deep down he still cared. It was his father no matter how estranged they grew. He mourned the moments of happiness they shared when he was small, the blissful times when his mom was still with them. Adrien mourned Gabriel for what little he gave him. He wished it could’ve been different, better than the reality but then again, too late to change anything when your father is breathing his last breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

And here he was now, trying to decide what to do with the burden of the company he received. So far it didn’t go well and Adrien had just about enough of everything. He also didn’t know Marinette worked here. His plan apparently hadn’t worked but, boy, was he right. The gorgeous woman that sneaked into his office today (yes, she was gorgeous, Marinette was always pretty and growing up only helped her bloom into a beautiful woman) was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. Those pretty eyes glazed under a thick layer of tiredness, the pale color of her flawless skin, the sagging curve of her pink lips did exactly nothing to exenterate her loveliness. The deep frown might have been on her face due to his appearance though, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working here wasn’t merciful to Marinette just as he predicted and it seemed that she hadn’t recognized it yet, fighting for the company that was seemingly going under without a good leader.

 _Maybe,_ he suddenly though, his eyes going wide so unexpected and shocking the idea was, _just maybe the fate is giving me another chance of helping her? This company was built on tears and curses of my father’s employees, it isn’t worth of harboring such an incredible talent as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’ll be famous one day very soon, she can’t have her name associated with the tyranny that was Gabriel. I’ll need to help her find a better position in a different company even if it means ruining Gabriel in the process. I’m not sure it worth saving anyway. Marinette’s future is._

The clock was slowly ticking the minutes away but Adrien couldn’t sleep anymore. Destiny was giving him another opportunity to help one of his closest friends to fix her life. He couldn’t sleep at times like this. He was too busy brainstorming ideas on how to make Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s life better, gently push her back into the right direction and possibly, if he dared to hope, gaining her friendship once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, guys. Maerynn, now it's your turn. :)


	3. Stranger

Marinette groaned loudly as a ray of light caught her eye, disturbing her sleep. She stirred lazily, slowly regaining awareness of her surroundings. Her neck was stiff from the odd position she had fallen asleep in, and she couldn’t feel her left arm from having laid her head on it all night. Eyes bleary, she groggily looked around her and barely muffled a defeated sigh upon realizing her current whereabouts.

She had fallen asleep in her office.

Again.

The night prior, when she had left Chat Noir on the Tower, she had fully intended to follow his sound advice. Heading home was definitely the sensible thing to do considering Alya was more than likely already pissed at her for having ignored her calls all day. No use adding oil to the fire.

But as she was swinging her yoyo from building to building, images of her cluttered office, buried under bolts of fabrics and spools of thread, of the unfinished dress hanging from the mannequin and of the pile of designs awaiting sorting and being put into productions flashed before her eyes.

She had worked herself to the bone for months for that first woman line, had suffered through so many sleepless nights, had stepped up to her boss so many times… This project truly was her baby, her greatest achievement yet, and she wanted everything to be as she and Gabriel had envisioned it.

So, convinced she could squeeze a few more hours of stitching before Alya would notice her absence, she had changed directions mid-jump and headed straight back to Agreste's head office. Detransforming in an alley across the street, she had let herself into the building, bid goodnight to the security guard and snuck back into her office like she had done countless times before. She turned on all the lights in her office, took out the designs Gabriel had approved just before passing away and got to work.

She had cut, pinned and sewn for the better part of the night, losing herself into the passion that had become all work and no play. Exhaustion quickly caught up with her, and after pricking her fingers a few times with the needle, her head began to nod off steadily, and she lost track of time.

Soon enough, the weight of reality crashed back on her, and the next thing she knew she was waking up amongst her mess, groggy and disoriented.

Her cellphone chimed on her desk, and she reached for it, checking the hour. Maybe, just maybe, if Tikki’s luck was still on her side, she would be able to sneak back into the apartment without waking Nino or Alya up.

As soon as the little digital screen lit up, however, Marinette instantly knew that she was utterly and perfectly screwed. Any hopes of a stealthy return home were crushed by the heavy amount of missed calls and text messages overflowing her phones.

Just her luck.

Scrolling through the messages thread, she cringed, her heart jumping into her throat. Of course, there were the usual inquiries about her current whereabouts, the expected question about whether or not to save dinner for her. But where the usual follow through was “Are you coming home at all tonight?” she instead received, “Guess I’ll have to buy my wedding dress off-the-rack.”

Her heart broke reading those words.

Panic rose into Marinette’s chest, and she blindly reached for her planner, refusing to believe the implications of said message. She almost tore the book open, finding the right page with shaky fingers. It just couldn’t have happened, Alya had to be mistaken, there _had_ to be a huge and horrible misunderstanding.

That was the only explanation she could see. There was no way she could have forgotten _that._

And yet, hastily scribbled in her own handwriting on the previous day’s page, was definite proof that she had committed an unforgivable crime against her relationship with her best friend.

**_9 p.m.: Design wedding dress with Alya !!! <3_ **

Her defeated whine resonated loudly in her empty office. “Tikki! Why haven’t you reminded me?”

The little kwami lifted an unimpressed gaze toward her charge. “I have, Marinette. Several times. You ignored or dismissed me every time, like you usually do when you’re working. In the end I gave up.”

Marinette groaned, not bothering to answer the bitter jab. It was already bad enough that she had to pencil her _best friend_ in her planner for something as important as her wedding, but she had managed to forget about it altogether. The uncanny absence of any other message after the mention of the dress was telling volumes.

Alya was not pissed.

She was utterly, and completely _furious_ with her.

Breath short, heart pounding in her ears, Marinette put away the mess of fabric on her desk as quickly as she could, not bothering to fold them correctly. She would probably curse her lack of foresight later, when she’d resume working and find herself dealing with a bunch of wrinkled and mixed up fabric, but for the time being she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything other than the friendship she probably just had destroyed.

Going home by traditional means was going to take too much time considering her jittery nerves. Ignoring Tikki’s disapproving glare, Marinette quickly transformed and let herself out through her office window. She’d have a hard time explaining why her security badge’s log would show an “in” but no “out” if anyone was to look at her file, but that was a problem she’d have to deal with later.

For now she just wanted to salvage what little was left of her bond with Alya.

Part of her wanted to just crawl in through her bedroom window and pretend to have been asleep the entire time, but the rational part of her brain knew Alya would never be fooled by such a weak excuse. After all, it wasn’t exactly past the blogger to have spent the night in her bed only to make sure she wouldn’t risk missing her arrival.

Reluctantly, Marinette instead settled on hiding in an empty alley to detransform and walked to the building entrance like a convict heading to his death sentence. Feet heavy with dread, she went for the elevator, the silence only disrupted by the pounding of her heart in her chest.

When the doors opened on their floor, her breath hitched in her throat. This was it. No going back now. She messed up and she had to face the music.

Her keys jingled loudly when she pulled them out of her purse, and the rattle of the metal when she slid the right one in the keyhole made her gasp inwardly. Marinette pushed the door open slowly, bracing herself for her impending doom.

Sure enough, Alya was sitting at the kitchen table, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her expression as her eyes landed on her friend standing awkwardly in the doorway was unreadable. Marinette twitched uncomfortably, feeling bare and vulnerable under the piercing gaze.

Gulping painfully, she hung her purse on a hook and took a few careful steps into the apartment, trying to assess the situation. She made it about three feet in before Alya’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks, dripping with venom. “How kind of you to _finally_ let me know you’re still alive.”

Marinette blanched, startled by the anger behind her friend’s words. “I’m sorry, Alya, I—”

“Don’t,” Alya interrupted her, holding a hand up. “I’m sick and tired of your lies and your excuses, Marinette. I can’t sit around and pretend I’m fine with you wasting your life away like that anymore.”

Marinette knew, deep inside, that it was the anger talking, and that Alya probably didn’t _really_ mean to be this harsh.

But she had had a long day, she had spent the night in an office chair and she was still feeling shaken from her encounter with Adrien. Her patience had already been wearing thin, and despite her best intentions and how much she cared about Alya and wanted to mend their weakened friendship, she couldn’t help but _snap._

“Oh, because you patronizing me basically every single time I set foot in the apartment is your way of pretending you’re fine with me? Could’ve fooled me.”

Alya’s eyes widened, and her expression shifted to something darker, sadder. She stood up, her arms still crossed in front of her in a defensive manner. “You know, I’m starting to think that maybe Adrien had it right after all.”

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. Adrien Agreste is nothing but a selfish manipulative jerk,” Marinette snarled through clenched teeth.

“Who tried to warn us that working for his father would change you.”

Marinette backed up a few steps, looking every bit like if Alya had just slapped her across the face. How dared she suggest what Adrien had done back then was anything less than pure treason? Swallowing the painful lump in her throat, she spat as angrily as she could, “Ok, so you’re going to pick the awful human being who didn’t even bother showing up at his own _father’_ s funeral over your best friend now?”

“No. I love my best friend to pieces, Marinette, but she isn’t you,” Alya answered, her fists clenched by her side. “Not anymore. She’s the kind, sweet girl that I met in middle school. The woman standing in front of me right now is nothing more than a stranger to me.”

Hurt and confusion choked Marinette, who bit back an angry sob. Her life was unraveling under her fingers, and she felt powerless. “Why don’t you ask _Adrien_ to be your bridesmaid while you’re at it?”

A shadow crossed Alya’s face, and she averted her eyes from Marinette, retreating even more within herself. “You know what? Maybe I will! That way maybe my bridesmaid will actually show up!”

“Is that so?  Well, in that case, count me out!”

“ _GLADLY,”_ Alya yelled, fists clenched tight.

At first, Marinette couldn’t even answer. Words were stuck in her throat, the air was heavy, unbreathable. She knew that feeling all too well, it was the same feeling that had overcome her upon realizing Adrien was so disgusted by her confession and wanted so little to do with her that he had hidden her internship application from his father.

She was clearly _unwanted._

Anger bubbled up in her chest, the rejection stinging badly. “You-you want me out of your _wedding_?”

“Mari, I’m sorry. I—”

Marinette shook her head, crossing the apartment in long, harsh strides. She rushed past Alya and headed straight for the front door. “It’s pretty clear that I’m no longer wanted here,” Marinette spat angrily, trying to ignore the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time, don’t worry.”

“Mari, wait-”

"I'll send someone for my stuff later. You know, _someone_ who won't nag me constantly and who doesn't believe Adrien isn't the biggest asshole on the planet." Grabbing her purse from the hook, she slammed the door shut behind her, ignoring her friend’s pleas.

Marinette made it back to Gabriel’s headquarters in a daze state with still about an hour to spare before office hours, still shaken by the entire encounter. She let herself into her office through the same window she had used to exit, briefly noting that her security log wouldn’t be a problem after all. Throwing her purse in a corner of the room, she let her transformation fall and absentmindedly offered a cookie to a worried Tikki.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” came the soft voice of her littlest friend.

Marinette swallowed painfully, refusing to meet her gaze. “I don’t know, Tikki. I… How dared she say Adrien have been right? He selfishly tried to sabotage my career, and-”

“She’s right, though.”

The words hurt more than Marinette wanted to admit. Eyes widening, she whispered, “W-What?”

“You did change, Marinette,” Tikki said softly. “It’s up to you to figure out if it was worth it or not.”

As she slumped into her chair, landing an unimpressed gaze on the ambient clutter, Marinette suddenly felt overwhelmed by the recent events. Her boss was dead. His son, whom she despised above anything else, was back in her life despite her dearest wishes. She and her best friend were barely even on speaking terms anymore.

Emotions bubbled up in her chest and tears spilled on her cheeks, unbidden. This was not how she had envisioned her career going, much less her personal life. But she was too far gone, she had accomplished too much to back out now. If only she could salvage the line she had been working on with Gabriel, she would make a name for herself and maybe, just maybe, land herself a position that would actually allow her to have a life and an apartment of her own.

Gabriel had had projects for her. The upcoming women’s line had been meant as a test, an introduction of some sort into the management of an entire line. If she did well, he had promised to let her take care of the feminine branch of Gabriel on her own.

Now, with Adrien behind the wheel of the company, her future within its walls was less than assured. It was no secret the young man loathed everything related to fashion and to the Agreste name. Not a really good combo when you’re aspiring to a stellar career as a fashion designer in Gabriel Agreste’s empire.

She threw her frustration into her work, furiously sewing, cutting and drawing the day away, barely stopping fifteen minutes to eat a sandwich from a vending machine in the early evening. She worked up until her bleary eyes couldn’t focus on her fingers anymore, until her brain refused to make the stitches remotely even.

With a loud sigh, she pushed the skirt she had been working on away and waited warily for the flow of worries and memories to come back nagging her. Shoulders hunched in defeat, she rested her head on her folded arms. This wouldn’t be the first night she’d spend in that office, and probably far from the last too. As long as she wouldn’t figure things out, she would be stuck sleeping there, so she might as well get used to it.

Her sleep that night was restless, not bringing any soothing to her troubled mind.

Still exhausted, her patience long gone, she had half a mind to bit off the head of the rude human being who saw fit to wake her up at five a.m. with a loud gasp and a startled cry.

“Marinette!?”

The icing to the cake, though, was half-jumping out of her skin only to meet the worried gaze of none other than Adrien Agreste.


	4. Old Habits

Adrien would be lying if he said he didn't want to close the message and never reply but despite his dearest wishes, the events of the last week kept his cellphone screen lit for quite some time, fingers hovering over his virtual keyboard.

[Nino: Adrien, I know I have no right to message you and wouldn’t blame you if you decide to delete this and never get back to me but I think that an apology on my behalf is long overdue and for whatever it’s worth we, both of us Alya and I, are incredibly sorry for not believing you and cutting you off. We’ve learned through the hard way that you had been right all this time and we are the worst friends ever. Go ahead now, smash the phone on the ground or throw it out the window in disgust, I won’t judge you. No one will in fact. Just know that there would not be a single day in my life when I won’t regret mistreating you back then. I am sorry.]

Adrien sighed again and put the device back on the table for, probably, tenth time in the past hour. He should be focusing on his work, not thinking of the underlying reasons of why his former best friend suddenly felt the need to message him an apology. For he was pretty sure that this wasn’t just a random call of consciousness and as far as his guesses would go it has everything to do with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Hey, kid.”

“What?” Adrien didn’t even bother to look at his little companion flying close.

“Want a snack?” Plagg plopped in front of him on the table. “Food tends to make me happy and you look a bit too sour.”

Adrien groaned and dropped his head on the table, watching the soft glow of the screen with hesitation. Marinette troubled him as a lot lately, he couldn’t deny it, if not as a former friend than as a human being in general because the state this woman was in was not normal by any means.

About a week ago Adrien found himself standing at the main entrance to the Agreste offices at five in the morning, an unenviable situation by any means, but it was the final exams’ week at his school and coming here after the classes and all the extra work he had to do was even less appealing. The solution was quite evident – get there early, do what boring things he was entrusted with and flee to his teaching heaven.

Yet that morning, despite his half asleep state something caught his attention before he even entered the building - a single window amongst hundreds that was harboring some soft light in the midst of the darkness around. Adrien was dismayed. Who could be at work already when a new shift was starting only in two hours? Surely there was no one as crazy and juggling two jobs at once as him. Ridiculous, really. In a moment he attributed this strange phenomenon to nothing more than someone forgetting to turn the lights off and he was willing to lend a hand.

Encountering sleeping Marinette who looked like she just exited the war zone was not what he’d expected. The look she gave him, startled by his shocked gasp, was unsettling. The low growl “Working. Can’t you see?” as a response to his question of why she was there at such an ungodly hour sent chills down his spine. Briefly, he debated to intervene and send her home to rest but, remembering their previous encounters and considering her current state, Adrien backed away, deeming that as a sane person Marinette would surely go home and rest when she’d had enough.

The only thing he was risked to do was to carefully walk inside her office and place his untouched cup of coffee in front of the exhausted woman. His box of freshly baked pastry was put beside the coffee. Adrien tried to smile but Marinette just looked at him silently, nothing but despise luring in her eyes, the eyes that were so kind to him once a long time ago.

“I think you need these more than I do,” he mumbled and was half ready to hear, “I don’t need anything from you” but strangely enough it didn’t come. “Thank you” wasn’t there either but, given the situation they were in, he’d be extremely surprised if it’d come.

That was the beginning of this week. Now it was Friday and from a few times that Adrien had seen Marinette in the halls of the company, he gathered that she hadn’t felt better. It was a wonder she hadn’t fallen ill or fainted on the spot the last time he spotted her, leaning on the vending machine while waiting for one of the chocolate bars to fall out. All his attempts to start a conversation and get to the bottom of her exhaustion the woman either ignored or aggressively-politely told him off. Adrien had already a half heart to think this was her natural state right now but this sudden message from the past got him suspicious again.

“Kid, a snack?” sounded nearby but Adrien was too invested to pay attention. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath and jump right back into his reverie.

What if it wasn’t? What if Marinette really was in some kind of trouble? Big enough for his estranged friend to step over his pride and contact him? What was going on and why did he still care for what was happening to her? Why did he found himself wanting to reply to that message? Why was a picture of them hanging out together again flashing through his mind all of the sudden? Why did he not delete this message yet? The message from a former friend who betrayed him so cruelly when he needed him the most?

“Open wide,” Plagg shouted in his ear yet for Adrien it seemed like a faraway cry so entranced he was in his thoughts. He opened his mouth to tell the kwami off but the second he did so something soft was unceremoniously shoved into it.

“There.” Plagg rubbed his paws together. “You’ll feel better in no time, kid.”

At the same time, Adrien felt tears coming to his eyes as the unmistakable taste and smell of Camembert was suddenly attacking his every sense. Immediately finding the nearest trash basket and spitting the goodness out, Adrien glared at the ancient creature.

“Plagg!”

“You look more alive already,” the kwami grinned. “Told ya you’ll feel better!”

“Agh” Adrien growled and, flipping his phone screen down, dropped his head against the table once more. “Plaaagggg!” he whined, covering his head with his hands.

A weak knock on the door a moment later forced him to sat back up and straighten.

“Come in,” he called and stood up to greet the intruder.

A shy petite girl stepped into the room. “M. Agreste?” she asked. “I am really sorry to bother you so late but—“ she timidly walked over and placed a sheet of paper on his table, “—here. I wanted to give you this.”

Adrien blinked. He thought he saw this woman before. He just wasn't sure where and when but failing to remember he took the paper she gave him and read.

“You are quitting?”

"I am really, really sorry, M. Agreste," she started to mumble. "But I received a much better proposition and given the circumstances, I am inclined to accept it."

“Where were you working?” he frowned. He was dead sure he saw her before.

“I was a junior designer under Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” the girl replied quietly.

Ah! It dawned on him. A few times he saw her with Marinette, trailing behind her but focusing on the physical ruin of the first one, he failed to notice the other.

“Does she know?” Adrien asked absentmindedly.

“She doesn’t,” the girl shied away.

“You didn’t tell your direct superior you were quitting?” Adrien raised a brow.

“To be honest, I was afraid to tell her,” she replied. “Not to be ungrateful or mean but Mlle. Dupain-Cheng isn’t herself these days, M. Agreste. She’s more stressed and exhausted than ever and me quitting would be just a cherry on the top for her but, please, understand me, Monsieur, I cannot continue like this. It was either quitting or going insane alongside Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

“Oh.” A gasp escaped Adrien’s lips. “Going insane” were quite strong words and, to be honest, he couldn’t find himself to disagree or object. Marinette did look the part these days. Well, maybe not "going insane" mentally, but "going insane' with exhaustion and overworking. Was she even sleeping he wondered? She definitely ate. He saw her pulling that chocolate bar a few days prior so she must be eating at least something-

“So, I’ll go?” the girl intruded in his thought process.

“Wait—" His arm reached out but stopped halfway. He promptly pulled it back and rubbed the back of his neck, “—Ehhh—” His eyes landed on the paper. “—Mlle. Ardoin? Do you know what happened?” Adrien asked. “What happened to push Mlle. Dupain-Cheng to such extreme?”

“No, I don’t,” the girl sighed. Her eyes dropped down to the floor for a moment or two before she visibly gathered some courage and looked straight at him. “Can I tell you something in secret?”

“Sure,” Adrien nodded.

“I suspect- “Mlle. Ardoin paused, inhaled and continued. “I know it sounds crazy but I suspect that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng doesn’t leave work at all.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien couldn’t help but frown in surprise.

“She’s always here when I come and I usually arrive really early,” the girl explained. “And when everyone leaves she’s always staying behind to finish something. Last week she wore the same outfit for three days straight and then another one for the rest of the week. Her hair isn't styled as usual. I'd say she simply ties it in the ponytail and doesn't style it at all which she never failed to do before. Last Thursday I noticed a small bag with essentials like toothbrush, toothpaste and even some underwear in her office hidden in the closet. Plus, by the sheer amount of work she does when she stays behind I can assume that she stays up at least half of the night which leaves little time to go home, sleep and come back.”

“I-“ Adrien’s brows knitted in concentration even more as he was processing this little bit of information, not hard enough evidence but still quite suspicious. “I’ll look into it, Mlle. Ardoin. Thank you for informing me.”

“Don’t tell her I said it,” the girl blushed for some reason. “But I think she needs help. She was an awesome person when we first started working together but your father’s death changed her dramatically. She was always a hard worker and always did more than any of us, that’s why he noticed her and let her develop her own line but what is going on now isn't normal and it hurts me to see her like this. Please, Monsieur, if you can help her, do so."

“I’ll look into it,” Adrien responded hesitantly. “Thank you again for letting me know this, Mlle. Ardoin.”

Before leaving, the girl murmured a few more things Adrien didn’t even bother to decipher as his thoughts raced _again_ back to Marinette. Help her, this girl said but Marinette didn’t want his help even if she was in trouble. He tried to help her once. It didn’t end well - he lost his best friends over it. Plus, the way she was treating him now – the cold dismission and ignorance... She did become his father in a way. Adrien didn’t want to get involved with that kind of destructive attitude once more. He didn’t have a choice when he was a child but he could choose now. He could simply ignore this annoying feeling and let Marinette get out of whatever she was in alone.

Then why? Why did he  _still_ want to help?

Adrien swore under his breath and sat down. Thoughts wildly ran inside his mind as he debated what he could lose this time if he did decide to get involved.

Friends? He didn’t have anyone close to him right now. Burned once and too afraid to lose them again Adrien never let anyone close after the mess he went through. Work? He doubted he would lose his teaching career since Marinette wasn’t involved there but he didn’t mind losing this fashion gig at all. It was a temporary try out anyway. Family? He didn’t have any. Money? He had more than enough. Love? That aspect of his life was always separate from his “Adrien” persona and it would stay so and secret until Ladybug would be ready to take the masks off. He was steadily becoming closer to her and that was what really mattered because soon if everything would be going the way it went now, he was hoping to finally cross into the relationship sphere once and for all. Soon but not yet so maybe, just maybe, he had enough time to try helping Marinette?

“So, your Princess has become even more troublesome?” Plagg snarled nearby.

With a groan, Adrien closed his eyes and dropped his head on his table. How many times did he do it today? There might actually be a bruise on his forehead by this time he feared.

“Shut up, Plagg,” Adrien grumbled as his sight landed on the pile of papers lying to the side, successfully untouched. He should work and forget about former friends in need who want neither his help nor him anywhere close.

“More snacks?” He could hear the mockery in Plagg’s little arrogant voice.

Adrien closed his eyes. Princess… The old nickname he gave Marinette once. It held so many memories to it and, if he’d be honest, he’d have to admit that beneath all this resentment Adrien really missed the times when he could have fun with them, all of them. He missed the ice cream in the park, swimming at a pool, running around the school, listening to Nino’s mixes, making fun of the latest news, debating the next scoop Alya dug out, laughing, conspiring, being carefree and most of all tasting new pastries at Marinette's bakery. He missed it all so much. Why did everything have to change? Why did they all have to change? Why did he have to mess up so badly?

Adrien’s lips twitched in a weak smile as he remembered how after long days Chat Noir would sometimes sneak onto Marinette’s balcony for another croissant or two. They used to be friends-

Wait a minute!

Adrien jolted up.

"Uh - uh!" Plagg whistled.

Chat Noir and Marinette used to be friends! Adrien stared blankly in front of himself. He stopped going over to Marinette’s after the Adrien fiasco but she didn’t know why he stopped! For all she could know he could move away from her district or get too busy for his visits. She didn’t know he was Adrien. The smile quickly metamorphosed into a grin and sparkles flashed across his green eyes – something that hadn’t happened in a long while.

Adrien had a plan.

“You look like you are about to do something really crazy, kid.” Plagg narrowed his eyes at his chosen one.

“I might,” Adrien replied with renewed fire in his voice because if he’d be successful he would help Marinette and she would never know it was him. He glanced over at his phone and hesitantly took it in. He might even see what can be salvaged with Nino if any and while he was at it, he might as well get some extra information about Marinette if he wanted to succeed. Why was he so inclined on helping her at all ceased to matter now. It was bothering him and he had a chance to fix this. The reasons can wait for later.

[Adrien: Phones are expensive to smash or throw them out just because someone decided to apologize. Even if it is awfully late.]

He paused for a moment and added.

[Adrien: What brought this on?]

Nino’s reply was almost immediate.

[Nino: Would an invitation to a lunch be too soon, too much?]

Adrien thought for a minute.

[Adrien: I’ve lived through worse. I can handle a lunch.]

A few more texts later and one lunch date with a former best bro secured, Adrien glanced at his watch. Damn! How didn’t he notice it was closing to eleven in the evening? How long was he stewing here after that girl left? Then, it might as well be just what he needed to think of a perfect plan.

Abruptly Adrien stood up, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Kid? What’s-”

"Plagg, claws out!" he cried out and leaped out of the window as soon as the tight black suit was complete. Sure enough, apart from his, there was only one other window lit and he suspected he knew exactly who was there. Slowly and quietly he got closer and peeked in but as soon as he did Chat found himself suppressing a gasp, his eyes going wide at once because the sight before him was not pretty. With dark circles under her eyes, a messy hairdo and a mask of extreme fatigue on her face Marinette looked like she was on the edge of her physical capacity and about to collapse.

 _You can do it_ , he told himself and exhaled in determination. Luckily, the window was open and Marinette was standing with her back to him, providing Chat with a perfect opportunity to climb in as quietly as possible. A little while later, when his feet were safely grounded on the window sill, he greeted with the most seductive smile he could master in this situation. She needed to like him or it all was useless.

“Long time no see, Princess.”

With a gasp Marinette almost jumped in her place, the scissors in her hands hitting the floor with a bang as she jolted around rapidly, a look of fear and dismay on her face. She needed a moment to recognize just who was intruding but when she did the startling changed into a surprise. Good or bad he could tell yet but then her lips parted to say something. Chat Noir listened but it never came. A sudden splash of emotions and scare proved to be too much for an exhausted woman in the vulnerable state. Her eyes fluttered closed and body went limp as she collapsed into a quick-reacting arms of Chat Noir.


	5. Breather

Marinette set her phone back on her desk, suppressing a long sigh. 

Deep down she knew it was unfair of her, but part of herself was somewhat glad that Alya was worried about her whereabouts. For the past few days, she had been receiving a constant string of texts, first asking if she was okay, then wondering is she was alright. In the end, obviously desperate, Alya began to beg her best friend to at least give her a sign, confirm that she was at the very least alive. 

But Marinette couldn’t. 

The wound was too fresh, the hurt too vivid yet.

She didn’t want to go back to that gilded cage. Go back to a home where questions are constantly asked, where she could focus on her already withering career without being guilt-tripped.

Her daily phone calls with her parents went by quickly, telling them she was staying with a friend, looking at her different options and reevaluating her life. Aside from that, she ostensibly ignored a thousand calls from Alya and a few hundred from Nino.

But no matter how her friends were worried about her, no matter how her parents thought she was making all the wrong life choices, she knew that pursuing her lifelong dream was worth it in the end. That it’d make things right.

She had to pull through, she had to continue even if it killed her in the end. Carry Gabriel Agreste’s work beyond the grave, prevent his up-to-no-good son from wrecking years of sacrifices, of late hours of works, of lonely holidays.

Gabriel’s first women’s line was almost ready to launch, and she had swore to herself that everything would go smoothly even if there were a few sacrifices to be made along the way. 

And now that the goal was so close, almost in her hands, she couldn’t imagine giving up on it. So she ignored the stubbornly chiming little device on her desk and got back to work, trying yet again to figure out what her former boss had intended to do with a particular design.

A few hours later, she dropped her pen on her desk, holding her head in her hands. It was no use. The fire in her veins was drowned out, the inspiration was gone. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t envision what Gabriel had been trying to convey, what his intention with the final design had been. 

She grabbed her sewing shears and started cutting through some fabric she had laying around, trying to empty her mind from the constant nagging, the constant wondering about whether or not her late boss had intended Design A to be flirty, or Design B to be sassy. She lost herself in the cutting of the best quality cloth, her fingers running on the fibers with reverence.

“Long time no see, Princess.” 

Marinette almost jumped out of her skin upon hearing those words, her shears falling on the floor with a loud thud. She spun around, ready to fend off the intruder with her very life should the need arise.

The sudden motion added to what little food she had eaten in the last few days made her dizzy. The room wobbled around her, and her limbs felt unbearably heavy. A familiar face came into view, a face that looked oddly out of place in her office, a face that she only ever saw on random rooftops these days.

She opened her mouth to ask him to leave, to put her partner back into the “superhero life” where he belonged, where he couldn’t witness firsthand the mess her life had become, but her lips refused to obey. Her legs gave out under her, and everything went black.

The next thing she was conscious of was strong arms holding her upright in her office chair, pressing something wet to her lips. Marinette suppressed a surprised cough, and cold water filled her mouth, bringing her back to her senses. Warm fingers covered in leather gently stroked her cheek as a familiar voice spoke softly to her, “Hey, Marinette? Look at me, princess, are you okay?”

She choked out half mumbled words, her head still spinning. Her eyes managed to focus on a vivid patch of green— Chat Noir’s eyes. 

“C …… Cha… .W — »”

Marinette tried to get up, but he was quicker than her, forcibly holding her shoulders down. “Easy there, Tiger. That was a pretty bad fainting spell.”

She looked at him through misty eyes, focusing on his soothing voice. “How… How long was I out?”

“About five minutes or so. Come on, I’m bringing you home. You need a real meal and a few hours of sleep in a bed.”

She had a disheartened laugh. “Good luck with that, Chat Noir. You can’t bring me home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the hero argued stubbornly, “you can’t be weighing more than a few feathers, you’re barely skin and bones. When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”

She didn’t answer, averting her gaze from him ostensibly. His proximity was beginning to mess with her head, her entire being craving his comforting touch, the familiar safety of his arms. Chat Noir wasn’t done with her, though, as he gently nudged her chin up, worry written all over his handsome face. 

“You’ve lost an awful lot of weight, Marinette. Please, please tell me you’re not starving yourself to look like those unhealthy models placated all over Paris. You’re a very beautiful woman, you don’t need to go to such lengths to be attractive.” His tone was earnest, gentle, and any other day, Marinette would’ve thought Chat Noir’s concern was nothing short from adorable. That night, though, she was way beyond exhausted, and had apparently just wasted half an hour of precious time she could’ve spent working.

With a frustrated groan, she eyed the mess on her desk. “Don’t worry about me, Chat Noir, I’m fine. I have a housing issue to solve, but right now I’m just running short on time. Those mockups have to leave first thing in the morning, and I can’t afford to miss the deadline.”

“Are you saying you have nowhere to go?”

“I’m fine, Chat-” 

“You are far from fine, Marinette. Where’s the bubbly and adorable teenager who shared her cookies with me on her balcony a few years back?”

“You don’t understand, Chat. I have to make this work. Failure is not an option.”

“Why are you putting yourself through this insanity? I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Marinette, any fashion empire in France would be happy to have you. The entire company is going down in flames, and rats are already abandoning the sinking ship ”

“Without Gabriel Agreste behind me, I’m no one in the industry. I don’t have anything worthy to put on my CV, how do you want me to find a job like this?”

“But… You went to ESMOD, didn’t you?”

“I did. But Gabriel found me, and offered me a paid apprenticeship instead of wasting my time on school benches. It seemed like the perfect solution back then. I would get an early start in the industry without racking in student debts. But now, without a degree to show for myself and Gabriel’s gone…”

She trailed off, but Chat Noir seemingly understood what her entire problem was, because he breathed softly, “Your only chance to shine is to make sure his last collection makes a hit and gives you the recognition you deserve.”

“In a nutshell, yes. And as if it wasn’t enough, his nutjob of a son is constantly in my way.”

“Not a fan of the Agreste kid, I take it?”

Marinette snorted inelegantly, shaking her head dejectedly. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Chat Noir flinched in front of her, but now that the gates were open, Marinette couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to close them back. He was still kneeling in front of her, looking at her with those big, kind eyes that always made her weak in the knees, and for a fleeting moment she forgot about everything else.

Like she had done countless times before, she raised her hand to cup his cheek tenderly, losing herself in his intense gaze. She didn’t hear Chat Noir’s surprised hiccup, nor she realized it was the very first time her bare fingers were touching his skin.

“You know what’s the worst part in all this, Chat?” she said, unaware of the sharp intake of breath of the man before her, of the way she shouldn’t be that comfortable, that familiar with him. “I used to be friends with Adrien. I would’ve done anything for him, would’ve gone to the moon and back just to put a smile on his face. But he betrayed me the first chance he got, tried to sabotage my dream for no good reason. He…”

Her voice broke and she choked back onto a sob, tears rolling unbidden on her cheeks. Chat Noir surged forward, wrapping his arms around her into a warm embrace to try and appease the pain she failed to contain.

What he didn’t account for, though, was Marinette’s current state of mind. She needed her partner more than anything in that precise second, her entire being was yearning painfully for his comforting touch. 

She wasn’t Marinette, he wasn’t Chat Noir.

They were simply a man and a woman, both hurt and battered by their lives, and a wave of affection for her partner washed over her heart. 

Without thinking, red spandex suit long forgotten, Marinette tilted her head, her eyes fluttering closed. Her lips found his easily in the semi-darkness of the room, and she found solace in the familiar scent of his cologne, the comforting feeling of his muscular arms holding her close to his broad chest. His lips were a little chapped and he tasted of coffee and the salt of her tears, and Marinette never felt more at home than in that moment.

For a brief and blissful moment, his lips moved in harmony with hers, making her heart soar high. Then Chat's entire body went rigid beneath her hands and just as fast as it had begun, it was over. His hands wrapped around her wrists and pried her hands from  him as he jerked back with a startled gasp, staring at her with a shocked expression. His lips moved a few times without any sound coming out of them, before he managed to choke out hoarsely, “A— shit, I’m sorry, Mari, I shouldn’t have, —-”

Hearing her own name roll from his lips in such an unfamiliar way brought her back to her senses, and the weight of what she had just done crashed on her all at once. Her heart felt like it was bursting at the seams, unable to contain the contradictory emotions fighting within it. She sighed, her cheeks still wet from her earlier tears. “You love her, don’t you? Ladybug?”

Oddly enough, when Chat Noir nodded with a fiery blush spread on his cheeks, Marinette felt her heart torn to pieces in her chest.

“ …… I have to go, but I really want to help you here, okay? I owe you for all those cookies on your balcony years ago. I’ll …… ah… I’ll figure out something and come back as soon as I can, okay?  …… I’m sorry, I’ll— Try to grab a bite while you wait for me, you’re as white as a ghost.”

“Chat…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he took a step back, his hand clenched tightly around his staff. Had he seen her expression change? Was he suddenly unable to bear her sight? She had no clue, but before she could add anything he was gone without another word, the open window the only proof that he had really been there.

Breathless, her heart pounding almost painfully in her chest, Marinette plopped back into her chair, unaware of the tears running freely down her face. In the oppressing silence of her office, she whispered to herself, “Shit… I broke my kitty, didn’t I?” before letting out a loud sob.

The only thread tethering her to sanity was now threatening to break.


	6. An Offer

“Crap, crap, crap,” Adrien couldn’t stop freaking out as he cursed under his breath, curled up on himself on the floor under the window in his office. This wasn’t what he’d planned. It wasn’t even close! He’d gone to Marinette’s office, inclined on helping her with whatever problem she landed herself in. Then the kiss had happened (completely and utterly unintentional on his behalf), he had panicked and bolted out of there as soon as he could, rushing straight back to the safety of his room, sinking down on the floor and wrapping his arms around his head as soon as his transformation dropped. There he was quietly groaning for the last ten minutes.

“The crappiest crap in all the history of crappiness,” the man muttered again. “Plagg, help me.”

“With what?” the kwami snickered, already too engrossed in playing his latest otome game on the cellphone Adrien got him to pay any attention to his distressed wielder.

“I kissed her,” Adrien groaned.

“ _She_ kissed you,” Plagg corrected.

“But I responded!”

“For a second,” Plagg shrugged. “Natural instinct. Nothing more.”

“But Ladybug,” Adrien wailed. “What-“

“What LB doesn’t know—” Plagg narrowed his eyes at something in his game, “—won’t hurt her, kid.”

“But I can’t lie to her, Plagg,” Adrien exclaimed. “And could you just put that stupid game away for a second? Can’t you see I am in crisis here?”

“ _Be My Princess_ isn’t stupid,” Plagg pouted but still put the device away. “And you don’t have to lie to anyone if you don’t want. Just don’t tell her all the deets. Plus it’s not like you are even dating or anything—” Plagg yawned and landed on Adrien’s knees, right in front of his face, “—so technically you can kiss anyone you want right and left as I see it.”

“But I’m loyal to my Lady,” Adrien whined. “I should’ve pulled away much sooner.”

“But you’ve enjoyed it, haven’t you?” Plagg smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Agh!” The man buried his blushing face in his hands and moaned. His mission had failed miserably or, at least, hadn’t gone the way he planned and it was such a simple one. Get in, sniff out the needed info, provide a solution and get out. Not kiss Marinette back, even if it was for just for a split second and only because it felt _really_ good.

“This was my first kiss,” he groaned into his hands. “Marinette stole my first kiss. Why would she do that?”

“Marinette stole nothing,” Plagg scoffed. “LB took care of that years ago.”

“ _That_ doesn’t count, Plagg. I don’t remember that kiss. I wasn’t in the right state of the mind then-”

Wait a second. Adrien stilled. The right state of the mind?

That was it!

Marinette was clearly _not_ in the right state of the mind today. She looked beyond exhausted, was probably extremely hungry if she’d fainted on him just before that. She _clearly_ wasn’t capable to rationally make such important decisions as kissing the right person and all that happened was probably just a physically and emotionally drained girl searching for some comfort in the hands of a first person who came along and showed her kindness. Natural desires, innate instincts. That was all that it was.

“Of course,” Adrien whispered. “How didn’t I see it before?”

Marinette didn’t kiss him because she liked him or anything. No! She was simply way too exhausted to judge rationally. Anyone in that extreme state of tiredness would kiss the first random guy who wraps her in his arms. And here he was thinking that things would get complicated. Pfft.

She was also probably feeling lonely, Adrien wondered. If that girl who quit her job earlier was to be believed, Marinette hadn’t gone home in a few days, and now, might not even have one. She probably had no one to turn to as well if even Nino was searching for her through Adrien. His father pulling her from ESMOD without an official education, leaving completely dependent on him when he was alive and now that he was gone completely hopeless and desperate… No wonder Marinette behaved like this. Her life had become a disaster and all she wanted was a little comfort from a friend she trusted. It wasn’t affection nor meant anything! It was just him, Chat Noir, being in the wrong place at the wrong time with Marinette in the wrong state of mind!

“I need to help her, Plagg,” Adrien murmured into the emptiness of his own office. “I really, really need to help her.”

“Wanna get kissed again?” Plagg asked, the epitome of innocence on his face but Adrien glared anyway.

“We were lucky it was me there, Plagg," he continued to think out loud. “What if someone else, someone less decent, would’ve walked into her office? She could’ve kissed that someone at the first sign of affection, could’ve been used and regret that for the rest of her life. She isn’t capable of making those decisions now. We need to do something, Plagg, anything we can to protect Marinette and get her back into a decent condition.”

“Why should you care, kid?” Plagg scoffed. “She messed up your life pretty badly if you ask me.”

“Well, it’s not like I hadn’t delivered the first punch,” Adrien reasoned. “But it would be inhuman to leave her like this alone, won’t you think so?”

For a minute Adrien stopped speaking as a frown descended upon his face. “Plus, it’s my father’s fault,” he said bitterly. “He caused Marinette to be in such condition. I _knew_ something like this would happen. I knew, it, Plagg—“ he clenched both of his hands into fists, “—knew and yet I didn’t try harder to protect her. She was one of my best friends. I should’ve pressed until she listened. Instead," Adrien sadly scoffed. "I acted as a victim, all wounded and resentful. I haven't tried hard enough to reach out and warn them. I gave up and blamed _her_ for not listening to me. I should’ve done more, Plagg.”

The kwami silently flew closer, looking him straight into the eyes. “Kid. Don’t-”   

“I have to fix this.” Adrien stood up. “I have to save Marinette while I still can.”

“What are you going to do?” Plagg raised a brow. “What _can_ you do? Haven’t you gotten the memo already? She _doesn’t want_ any help, especially yours.”

Adrien didn’t respond but for what felt like about ten minutes he was pacing the room back and forth, thinking hard. Finally, his eyes lit up and a sly smile appeared on his lips. “Let’s go Plagg. We have a few places to visit before going back to Marinette’s.”

“Adri-“

“Transform me, Plagg.”

*       *       *

“I can do it. I _can_ do it,” Chat chanted to himself, hiding just outside Marinette’s window again. “Just be careful. Don’t come really close. Don’t kiss anyone again unless it’s your Lady. Help her and get away. Easy.”

He sharply inhaled and stepped into the light of a silent room. “Missed me, Princess?”

The human form, half laying on the table groaned pitifully and lifted up her head with a mop of messy hair and a pale and tired face.

“Chat?” Marinette whispered, straightening up in her chair. “You came back?” Her eyes, a little red and puffy, gave away more than just her disbelief.

“The one and only,” Chat grinned and jumped from the sill to the floor. “And didn’t I promise to come back? I always keep my promises, Princess. I just needed to pick up a few things.”

Swiftly yet cautiously he walked to the table and placed a bag on the top. Carefully he pulled a little container out and placed it in front of Marinette, all while she stared at him in silence. “Dig in.”

“Chinese takeout?” Marinette asked as her eyes fell onto the box.

“Excuse me, Princess,” Chat mocked his best attempt to sound extremely apologetic yet formal. “I was going to buy you a fancy three-course dinner fit for the royalty but, woe is me, “Master Fu’s” is the only place in the vicinity that is open at this indecent hour and offers fresh instead of prepackaged food.”

And just like that, for the first time in many days, he caught a glimpse of tiny giggle slipping from Marinette's lips. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, squishing the little moment of joy instantly. “I was just surprised. That’s all. I didn’t expect to see you again, moreover with food.”

“I am full of surprises,” Chat chuckled and pulling out a second container, settled on the opposite to her chair. “By the way, I’ve tried them before. They are really good, so eat before I finish mine and will want to share yours.”

“Come on. Eat up,” he repeated when Marinette didn’t move, hesitantly eyeing him from under her long lashes, her gaze full of sadness and fatigue again. “I know you are hungry.” He leaned over, opened the box up and unwrapped the plastic fork, pushing it into Marinette’s hand.

“It looks like we’ve both had a long day, Marinette and since I didn’t have my dinner yet I thought we could eat together, okay? Don’t be shy, eat.”

For a second Chat thought she would refuse as her eyes shifted from him to the food and back up but then the hunger won. Quietly Marinette whispered _Thank you_ and started to eat. They ate in silence. For the most part, she avoided looking at him, focusing too hard on studying the content of the box and only when there were no more left Marinette put the fork away and still looking to the side murmured. “Chat?”

“Hm?” He hummed still enjoying his last piece of sweet and sour chicken.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette whispered. “For earlier. I don’t know what happened-”

“What? The kiss?” Chat tilted his head to the side, a soft smile playing on his lips. Marinette’s face drowned in crimson as she looked harder into the floor and nodded.

“I am so sorry,” she repeated immediately. “This week- this week was just so crazy and I am so tired I can hardly control my actions anymore. I- I-“

Chat stilled startled by the crack of her voice. Was she crying?

“I feel so helpless,” Marinette barely breathed out. “I don’t even have a home. My friendships are ruined and my career- my career for which I sacrificed everything is quickly vanishing before my eyes, Chat. I- I don’t know what to do anymore-“

“Hey,” Chat stood up and quickly walked closer when tears started to stream down Marinette’s face despite her trying her best to hide them. He kneeled beside her chair, took her hands away from her face and whispered. “Didn’t you say that failure isn’t an option just an hour ago? Hey, Marinette. Marinette, look at me.”

Gently he cupped her cheeks and turned her face to himself. Her eyes were still focused on the floor. “Marinette, listen. All you need is a little help, a little rest and a place to live and you’ll get right back up. I know it.”

“You don’t understand, Chat.” Marinette sobbed. “I can’t- I tried- and I failed and even you- you showed up and- I- I went and kissed you- when I know- I know you love her. I failed- I failed everyone- Gabriel’s dead- Alya’s mad at me and I- I lied to my parents- I can’t- can’t do this anymore- I give up.”

“Marinette. Mari, look at me.” Chat tried to catch her eyes, continuing to gently cup her face. “Look at me, Princess.”

Despite that, she only sobbed harder until it grew into a full fledge crying. Softly swearing under his breath, Chat pushed his earlier decisions aside and pulled Marinette into a tight hug.

“Marinette, listen,” he whispered into her ear. “It’s late and you are exhausted. You need to rest, you haven’t failed anyone and you can’t give up just yet. Let’s get you to bed and _after_ you have a good rest we’ll talk. Okay?”

“I don’t own a bed,” she cried in response. “I sleep here in this chair. You woke me up just earlier.”

“I know,” Chat said quietly. “I know that. That’s why I came back. I want to help you.”

“You brought me food,” Marinette wept. “I wronged you so much and you brought me food. I didn’t deserve it. I am so sorry.”

“Marinette, listen.” Chat pulled back a little and unsuccessfully tried to wipe her rolling tears. “Listen you _need_ to rest. You’ll kill yourself this way and no one, believe me, no one wants that. I’ll help you but you need to listen to me, okay?”

For a few moments Marinette didn’t move, her body lightly trembling from crying as she blankly stared back at him through her tears. Then her lips quivered as something seemed to have finally broken inside of her. Silently, she nodded and threw herself back into his arms.

“Good,” Chat whispered, holding her close. “Do you have any stuff that you need here? Your clothes? Toiletries? Your phone?”

“Just a few things I bought at the superstore when I left Alya’s," Marinette whispered, pointing to the package under the table by the wall. Chat gently pulled away, stood up and walked over to take the bag. In a moment though he was back at Marinette’s side. “Good. Come here.” He pulled her up. “Take this.” Quickly he placed the bag into her hands and with a whispered _Hang on tight_ picked her up in his arms princes' style.

“Chat!” Marinette gasped and threw her arms around him, grasping him tightly for stability yet losing the bag in the process. “Put me down, Chat!” she shrieked. “Chat, this isn’t funny. Put me down!”

“No need to panic, Princess.” Chat chuckled and let her go. He reached down and picked the bag up, pushing it back into Marinette’s hands. “Hold this tight, Princess, or you’ll lose it on the way.”

“On the way where?” Marinette asked. “Chat, this is not the best time for jokes. I am not going anywhere.”

“Don’t you trust me, Princess?” Chat sounded so wounded she almost believed him. Almost. A threatening to burst tiny smile gave him away. “And here I thought-“

“Why should I trust you?” Marinette interrupted, crossing her arm over her chest. “You come in here late at night after years of not showing up. Bring me food to make me like you and then trying to steal me away? You didn’t even tell me where you are taking me.”

Chat simply replied, “Home.”

“Home? Chat, I told you I don’t have a home.”

“Now you do.”

“I am not going to your home.”

“I am not taking you to my home, Princess.”

“You just said-“

“I am taking you to your home.”

“I am not going back to Alya’s!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Neither to my parents.”

“I didn't say that either.”

“Then where are you taking me?”

“Your home,” Chat smiled and put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Marinette, listen. I have an apartment I inherited from my mother, which I have no idea what to do with. So while I’m thinking about it, I thought you could stay there.”

Marinette blinked. “What?”

“My mom’s apartment,” Chat repeated. “No one lives there. No one had for years actually so it’s just simply sitting there empty. I thought you could-“

“I can’t live in your mother’s apartment.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s _your mother’s_ apartment,” Marinette reasoned. “She should live there, not me.”

“My mom won’t mind.” Chat looked to the side. “She died a few years ago.”

“Oh.” Marinette looked at the floor again. “I am sorry. I didn’t know.”

“That’s fine,” Chat sighed, lightly smiling. “I’m fine and you’ll be fine but you need a home and I have one for you.”

“I can’t, Chat.”

“Why not?” he almost growled. This was way harder than he’d expected.

“Well for once, I can’t afford a lot of rent.”

“You can certainly afford this one,” Chat reassured. “It’s tiny.”

“Really?” Marinette frowned skeptically.

“Yeah, totally. Minuscule. Wanna see?”

“I don’t know, Chat.” Marinette hesitated. “This feels a bit weird.”

“Oh, come on, Marinette,” Chat sighed in exasperation. “It’s not. Look at it as a business deal. You need a place to stay. I have a place to rent. We make a deal and everyone wins. You promised to listen to me, didn’t you?”

Yet still, Marinette delayed. “I-“

“You won’t find a better deal than this,” Chat smirked clearly seeing that a victory was just a step away. “Going in one, two-“

“Alright. Alright,” Marinette sighed. “But we need to work out all the details and how will I even pay you if I don’t know your name?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Chat chuckled. “Ready for your ride, Princess?” he warned and when she failed to object, picked the girl back up into his arms. “Let’s go home?”

“Yes,” Marinette whispered and, tightly clutching her bag, buried her face into the crook of Chat’s neck. “Home.”

*       *       *

“You said it was tiny!”

“It is,” Chat shrugged as they ended the tour of the two-bedroom, three-washroom and a huge living room/dining room combo apartment with the most amazing kitchen Marinette had ever seen. “A nice little place in the center of Paris as mom always called it.”

“This!” Marinette spread her arm around. “This is _not_ tiny, Chat. This apartment is huge and look, it's even furnished. Expensively furnished, Chat! And what about the location! Do you even know where it’s located? I can’t possibly afford this!”

“Of course you can,” Chat snickered. “I can see that you like it already.”

“I do like it,” she almost cried. “But I can’t afford it! I don’t earn that much. Why did you have to do this? I was already hoping for a place of my own-“

“And you found it,” he stepped closer, placing his hands on her shoulder. “Listen-“

“Chat,” Marinette groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “I can’t afford this. This is too much.”

“Hey,” he gently called. “I am the owner of this place. I decide the price and I say you can afford it.”

“Chat, this would cost me at least ten or even twenty times what I paid at Alya’s place. This is huge and it’s furnished and in the freaking center of Paris.”

“And it all yours,” Chat grinned and letting her go headed to the dining table nearby.

“Hey!” Marinette grabbed his arm. “Hey, listen here. This isn’t going to work, Chat. I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's way out of my budget.”

“Here we go again,” Chat sighed. This was getting a little frustrating. Was she that unaccustomed to getting a little help? “Listen, Marinette, as I see it, I have two choices. I will either keep it empty for another ten or so years until I finally decide what to do with it or I can let you live here.”

“You can rent it for a hefty price, Chat.”

“No,” he responded swiftly. “I am not renting my mom’s place. No one I don’t trust takes a step in here. Ever.”

“But why?” Marinette blinked.

Chat froze, hesitation and sadness surfacing in his green eyes. Yet in a moment turning his face away, he whispered. “My mom was the only person who really cared for me. She was the only one who sincerely and unconditionally loved me in this world. I don’t need money. I have more than enough so I am not renting or selling this place. I just can’t. But I also haven’t decided what to do with it either and until I do, no one I don’t trust takes a step inside here.”

“Why don’t you live here?”

“I have my own apartment right by the place I work at so it’s a matter of convenience,” he shrugged. “And I want you to live here for now. Until you get back on your feet, okay?”

“You really trust me this much?” Marinette was taken aback by sudden honesty. “But we haven’t seen each other in years. What if I changed? What if I am not that sweet, funny high school girl who fed you cookies anymore?”

“Nah,” Chat smiled, sadness still playing on his lips. “I know who you really are.” He softly poked in the middle of her chest. “This, your heart and your soul, your true self never changes, Marinette. Even if situations force you to behave differently and make bad decisions sometimes, you still are one of the best people I’ve ever known.”

“The first time we’ve met,” Marinette snickered. “I played a crazy fangirl and you totally believed me. I could’ve been playing you all that time for all you know. I could even be acting right now.”

“Ah,” Chat smiled. “That was so adorable I didn’t dare to interrupt you. In fact, I played along rather nicely, didn’t I?”

“You _flexed_!”

“Your point?” Chat chuckled. “Don’t blame a guy for wanting to bask in a cute girl’s praises and if flexing was the way to get a couple more exaggerated sighs and compliments out of you then that’s what I did. Listen,” Chat stopped talking and went to the table to take a small key laying on it. “Marinette—” he stretched his hand, “—please, let me use my mom’s legacy to help you. She was the kindest and the most generous person ever. I am sure she’d love for you to stay here, at least until you can afford something else.”

“Chat-“

“Please?” He looked at her pleadingly. “You know me well enough to know I won’t give up until you agree.”

“Alright,” Marinette sighed after a short staring contest. “But I am paying you rent as much as I can.”

“Sure,” Chat grinned and placed the small key into her hand. “Go rest now. I’ll start collecting my rent on Monday. That should give you enough time to get all the necessary stuff and since we are both busy- how about nine in the evening? Every day at nine p.m.? Would that work for you? The weekends will be off, of course-”

“What?” Marinette shrieked and paled. “Chat? Chat, what do you-?”

“What?” Chat frowned but in a moment his lips stretched in a satisfied grin. “I am sorry, Princess. Didn’t I mention _what_ my rent fee is?”

“No!” Marinette squeaked.

“Well,” Chat chuckled. “My rent fee might be a little unconventional but I think it’ll benefit us both.”

“Chat, what do you want?”

“Nothing much,” he shrugged. “Just feed me. One meal a day. That’s it.”

For a moment Marinette thought she didn’t hear correctly. “You want meals for my rent?”

“Yeah? Why not?” Chat asked. “I am a bachelor with two full-time jobs that I can hardly manage, absolutely zero cooking skills and no time to learn. Until now I’ve been mostly surviving on takeouts but it quickly got old,” he sighed. “Plus it affects my awesome figure and my health so a warm homemade meal once a day would be really appreciated. I won’t take long, I promise. Half an hour and I’ll be gone.”

“Chat, but I have work,” Marinette protested. “I can’t be always here at nine.”

“Now that you have a place all to yourself I think you can take some of your work with you if you want but a dinner is my fee,” Chat chuckled and walked backwards to the window. “See you around, Princess.” He bid his farewell and disappeared into the night before she could protest again.

*       *       *

“That’s the most ridiculous payment I’ve ever heard of,” Plagg grumbled when they arrived at their own apartment. “At the very least tell her to include Camembert on the menu.”

“That’s the most genius way to make her take care of herself, Plagg,” Adrien beamed way too proud of his own plan.

“And how is that? By slaving for you at the kitchen?”

“No,” Adrien chuckled, starting to get ready for sleep. “By coming home every day at a set, decent hour because she needs to cook and by eating herself the food she’ll cook for me. This way Marinette will have enough rest and nutrition to little by little recover both physically and emotionally. Not to mention her cooking skills must be incredible if her parent’s meals are anything to judge by.”

“She won’t have enough time for her work then,” Plagg stated indifferently. “And you’ve seen her. Her work is her life. Once it would suffer she’ll move out and will send you far away. Especially now that her assistant quit.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Adrien yawned, climbing into his bed. “Tomorrow her nutjob of a former classmate and her current boss will start looking for a couple of new assistants to replace the one that quit. He also willhelp her in every possible way to make sure all the deadlines are met and cleared with flying colors which means I’ll need to spend more time there and learn the ropes to get Gabriel out of the hole it’s in right now.”

“Pfft, why?”

“We need to show the world what Marinette Dupain-Cheng is capable of if we want to sell her to the best companies out there and for that, we need to make sure that Gabriel is still prospering and her new line excels. In fact, I’ll do my best to ensure all of the people who my father tortured by his strict and unfair regulation would get a proper support and a great place to work at.”

“I thought you hated Gabriel.” Plagg climbed into his own little bed. “Why do you care all of the sudden? Why save it?”

“I do hate it.” Adrien closed his eyes and cuddled the pillow. “I don’t hate innocent people though and I certainly don’t hate Marinette. Good night, Plagg.”

“Good night, kid,” the kwami answered and settled down himself. “I don’t like this, but it sure will be lots of fun,” he murmured and closed his eyes.


	7. Rent Fee

The first morning Marinette woke up in Chat Noir’s mother’s apartment, the most accurate word to describe how she was feeling would be “awkward”.

Somehow she felt as if she was invading this faceless woman’s intimacy whose identity Chat had carefully wiped off the apartment before bringing her here, sleeping in her sheets, showering in her bathroom, cooking with her appliances, reading her books. And yet, in the meantime, she couldn’t help but love it. She knew it was wrong, that she was playing with fire and jeopardizing her own identity, but living in his late mother’s apartment, she felt closer to him.

Laying on her back in that wide bed, she found herself wondering what kind of child had her partner been. Had he crawled into his mother’s bed at night, invoking nightmares to be allowed to sleep in that very same bed? Was he a picky eater, forcing his mother to deploy ingeniosity to have him eat his broccoli? Was he the kind of a little boy to get into trouble every day, or on the contrary, was he a little angel?

As she stretched on the comfortable mattress, his ridiculous rent fee came back to her mind. A meal. That was kind of cute in a way. Yet that obnoxious kitty had to go and ask for the single thing she didn’t have to spare: time.

Luckily, being a daughter of two bakers, Marinette had a few quick but tasty recipes up her sleeve, and would probably be able to cater to her partner’s culinary needs.

Reluctantly tearing herself from the sheets, she ventured into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Definitely, Chat Noir was a really thoughtful man. Even if the apartment hadn’t been inhabited for the past few years, the fridge was fully stocked with everything she could ever possibly need to cook delicious meals for both of them. Various fresh meat and fish, vegetables, multiple fruits, and seasonings were waiting for her. The pantry hadn’t been forgotten, bursting with spices, crackers, and every possible type of oil, flour or sugar she would ever wish to use.

With a fond smile dancing on her lips, Marinette wrote a quick list of the supplies she would need to feed her silly kitty over the course of the next week, marvelling once again at the apparent infinite kindness of her partner. Why would he go out of his way like this for a girl he had barely even seen in the past few years?

The idea that he was ready to go to such lengths for a long lost friend made her heart clench painfully in her chest out of longing. Because if she would be entirely honest with herself, Marinette wanted more out of their relationship. Way more. She was done hiding behind masks, done playing games. Yet this recent development had thrown some sand in the gears. How could she reveal herself to him now? He would know what a complete failure she was, would know she had kissed him out of sheer selfishness, would know she had been on the receiving end of his kindness without offering anything back.

No. Keeping her identity to herself, at least up until she could manage to look into the mirror again, was a safer bargain.

She was almost done with her grocery list when her phone chimed on the countertop beside her.

_[Alya] Please. Let’s just talk, nothing else I promise, no questions, but I need to see you to make sure you are alright._

Marinette groaned. One would think that if someone wasn’t answering your calls and texts for a week one would give up until that person is ready to reach back. Not Alya. She kept trying, again and again, all while Marinette hesitated. On one hand, she really wanted to avoid revisiting up all the issues they had, moreover explaining her new living arrangements. But another part of her, the one that was currently lonely and lost, wanted her best friend back, no matter the cost.

So she shook her head and grabbed her phone before she could change her mind.

_[Marinette] I’m free around 3._

_[Alya] Works for me. Usual spot?_

That was how Marinette found herself sitting in their usual café, nervously sipping on some vanilla latte.

Alya came in right on time, taking a seat in front of her best friend without even bothering to order a drink but not before wrapping her arms around Marinette in a tight hug. “Okay,” she said in a soft voice, “I know we have a bunch of things to talk through, and we’ll come to it, but first I wanna know if you’re safe. A little birdie told me you were sleeping in your office, and I won’t let—”

“I was,” Marinette cut her rambling short. She knew she had worried Alya sick, that her famous mama bear instincts had kicked in the second Marinette had walked out the apartment. “But I’m not anymore.”

“What?” Alya squealed. “Are you homeless? Where is all your stuff? Hang on, I’m going to call Nino and—”

“Alya, stop.” Marinette smiled softly to herself, her heart warming up despite herself thinking of her current living arrangements. “I’m staying at a close friend’s place, that’s all you need to know for the time being.”

Her best friend eyed her critically, from head to toes. “Who? I know for a fact that you aren’t staying with Rose and Juleka or Mylene. Who else can you stay with?”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more than that right now,” Marinette sighed. “But it’s not someone you know personally and I really can’t tell anything.”

“Are you sure you can trust this new roommate of yours? How come have I never heard of them before? This whole ‘can’t tell’ sounds a bit fishy, don't you think?”

Marinette sipped on her latte, a fond smile spread on her lips. “I trust him with my life, Al. And he’s not living with me, he just lent me somewhere to stay until I get back on my feet.”

“So that mysterious friend is a _he._ Mari, you can’t possibly be that naive. He’ll expect _something_ in return.”

“No. Don’t worry Alya. Not him. He already has someone in his life anyway.”

Marinette could almost picture Tikki rolling her eyes in her purse upon hearing those words, and she had to repress a giggle. In front of her, Alya merely frowned, looking at her friend intently.

At last, seemingly reaching a decision, the redhead sighed, “Look, I’m sorry, Mari. I should’ve realized you were stressed out much more than you let me on, and instead of supporting you like a best friend should, I just yelled at you and kept putting pressure on you.”

“You’ve had stuff going on too, with the wedding and everything,” Marinette said softly.

Her best friend huffed, looking down at her joined hands in her lap. “This is no excuse. You clearly needed someone to lean on, and I failed you. Mari, please come back to the apartment, it’s yours as much as it’s mine.”

The young woman couldn’t help the smile that spread on her lips. This was the Alya she knew and loved. The one taking charge of everything, making sure everything was alright, caring for her friends more than herself.

“I can’t, Al. Nino and you are gonna be married in a few months, I’m not gonna third-wheel you guys forever. I’m going to be fine.”

The frown still lingering on Alya’s face was eloquent on its own. She was still worried sick about her friend, worries that had been growing for quite a long time now. “Why don’t you quit that sinking job then? Everyone’s quitting, it’s all over the newspapers. Why must you sabotage your career and your health for that label?”

“Because I can’t quit.” Marinette tried to ignore the knot tying her throat up, focusing on explaining herself, at last give some sort of sense to her actions. “I haven’t completed my degree at ESMOD, if you recall. Gabriel pulled me out of school midway, said it was a waste of time and money, that he’d show me everything I’d need to know. And without a degree, I don't really have a bright future unless I prove myself with this new collection—”

“And with him gone that’s your only option,” Alya ended for her. “Okay. So there is a dude at work that owes me a big favour for conveniently forgetting to mention to his wife he lost his wedding band. I might be able to score you a four-page spread covering the next Gabriel’s fashion show. Do you think there might be a way to have the months you spent working for Gabriel recognized by ESMOD? I mean, you have paychecks to prove your experience, and definitely the skills to own up to it. Whose ass do I have to kick or sugar to get you your degree?”

Marinette lifted wet eyes toward her friend. Alya had always had her back, through thick and thin, and for a minute, she wondered how she could have let herself forget that. At a loss for words, she ultimately mumbled weakly, “Why would you even help me?”

Alya scoffed, looking at her best friend disbelievingly. “You’re my best friend, Mari, and I love you to pieces. Obviously, I’m gonna help you tear yourself out of that dump.”

* * *

That same day Marinette stood outside of Adrien’s office, sighing softly to herself.

After her talk with Alya, she had devised a bunch of things she had to take care of right away to salvage what was left of her name.

And Gabriel’s women’s line was among them.

Clutching the heavy folder to her chest, Marinette raised her fist and landed two sharp knocks on the door, her heart beating heavily within her ribcage.

“Come in,” Adrien’s familiar voice compelled her, tossing all of her worries aside. No matter how she felt, no matter how hurt and lost she was, Gabriel Agreste was gone and there was no one who could help her right now but herself. She had to carry on his legacy and in the process help herself even if it meant dealing with a man she’d rather not even see right now. All that was needed was be a professional and that she was.

Taking in a hefty breath, she pushed the heavy door. “Evening, M. Agreste.”

“Marinette?” Adrien blinked. He seemed a bit tired. “What can I help you with?”

“I have a favour to ask from you.”

Adrien straightened up in his chair, staring at her curiously. He seemed to search his words for a few seconds, before replying disbelievingly, “A favor from me?”

If they were still friends Marinette would almost certainly have giggled, seeing his dumbstruck face, how his hand was still clutching the pen that had halted its course on the paper. But as of now they weren’t so her face remained emotionless. Yet for the first time ever since crossing paths with him again, she really paid attention to him. Saw the dark circles underlining his familiar green eyes behind his glasses. Saw how his hair was wildly swept back, sticking out in every direction. Saw how wrinkled his shirt was, saw how wrongly his tie knot had been done.

He looked exhausted, at his wits' ends.

He looked broken. Just like her.

Immediately Marinette shook those thoughts away. She was here on a mission, and couldn’t let wandering thoughts distract her.

“I need some papers from your father’s office in order to proceed with some of his designs. Would you be kind enough to retrieve them for me?”

If he looked surprised a minute before, now Adrien was looking completely dumbfounded. “You have full access to his office at any given time, why would you need me for something like this?”

Shaking her head, Marinette pushed the heavy file on his desk. She couldn’t help but notice physics exams scattered through legal documents in front of him. “The designs I need are most likely kept in his personal office at the mansion. I scoured his entire office here, without any success.”

“The mansion?” Adrien’s eyes widened. For a moment he remained silent before quietly adding. “I’m sorry, Marinette, ask me anything but this. I haven’t been there since I moved out.”

“Maybe you could send someone trustworthy on your behalf then?” she sighed. This conversation wasn’t going in the direction she would’ve liked. “Listen, I understand that going back home might be hard for you emotionally speaking, but those last few designs were the best pieces of the line. If I wanna succeed, I need them.”

Adrien stared at her for what felt like an eternity, before smiling softly. “You need them that much?”

“Desperately.”

Raking his hands through his hair, Adrien dropped his pen on the desk beside him and pulled the file she had given him toward him. “So, those are the designs you need?” he asked quietly, the traces of uncertainty still lingering in his eyes.

“Yes, those are only preliminary sketches I drew for him in a creative meeting. He should have the final designs with all the confectionery specs in his personal files. If I want to meet the deadlines, I need those files. I can’t start over from scratch on time.”

“Alright,” Adrien sighed softly, “I’ll get them for you. If they’re really in that office, you’ll have your designs first thing Monday morning.”

A sigh of relief escaped Marinette’s lips as his lips twitched into a tiny smile. At that moment she clearly understood that this was an olive branch, offered to her to try and make peace between them after years of a feud that had lasted way too long. She wasn’t sure, thought, if she was ready to accept it yet.

Yet as she reached forward, shaking his hand firmly while thanking him as professionally as she could, Marinette couldn’t help but suddenly wonder if a teenager’s mistake was worth ostracizing an adult who had just suffered the loss of his last relative and had had a withering fashion empire thrust at him without warning, an empire he neither asked for nor wanted to deal with. Walking out of that office, she also found herself thinking that even if she wasn’t ready to forgive him his past cruel actions yet, maybe, just maybe, Adrien Agreste wasn’t as horrible as she thought he was.


	8. Revelations

Adrien didn’t remember the last time he had woken up with a smile on his lips. Today he could feel it even before he opened his eyes. He lazily stretched on his bed and wished a good morning to Plagg, still sleeping in his favorite trash can nearby.

“Whatcha grinning about?” the kwami yawned as he floated out of the bucket he loved so deeply that none of the countless attempts to replace it with a real bed and even a mini house had succeeded.

“Nothing in particular,” Adrien replied. “Just that things are finally starting to look brighter.”

“Lying to your girlfriend is bright?” Plagg scoffed, flying away to the kitchen.

“I haven’t said a single lie, Plagg.” Adrien sat up and ran his hands through hair, getting his Chat Noir mop in more or less orderly fashion. “And she’s just a friend, not a girlfriend.”

“Sure,” Plagg mumbled, already stashing his mouth with a morning dose of Camembert.

“Bon appetite,” Adrien chuckled and flopped back into his sheets, closing his eyes for the last few moments of peace and quiet before the craziness would start. Today was promising to be fairly busy and, in a way, quite momentous. First, work, then lunch with Nino and finally, more work. Yet it wasn’t the mountain of stuff he’d need to learn in order to save Gabriel but the lunch get-together after years of silence that kept him on his toes. Was he thrilled? To be honest, not exactly. More like nervous? Totally. Scared? Out of his mind. But nevertheless, kind of glad. This was completely bewildering and yet bittersweet because the rejection from his former best friend, even though it happened years ago, still stung. Too cruel, sudden and astonishing it was.

Adrien had never gotten the chance to talk to Nino or anyone else for that matter and explain himself after the incident. To his complete shock they just cut him off and as a result, he was bitter and resentful for years. So this reunion was quite welcome in a way. He often wondered what happened. He wanted to tell them his reasons so many times and now he had a chance to fulfill both. Adrien didn’t know how everything would go and, maybe, he didn’t really care so much for the result. He did hope for one thing, though. Whatever way it would go, it should finally give him at least some kind of a closure and the strength to move on.

The day went by tortuously slowly. First thing in the morning Adrien went back to work. Hiring a new assistant for Marinette was his top priority today, in addition to learning more about the real mess Gabriel was in. He wasn’t ready, however, for the avalanche of the new information and things he had to learn to make this insane idea a reality. Overwhelming. Tremendous amounts of work. So as soon as the clock showed quarter to three, Adrien zoomed out of his office and almost sprinted to a nearby café.

Despite being ten minutes early, Adrien was hardly surprised to see Nino already there. His former best bud was always the one to be on time. Yet as soon as he saw him, he halted his steps, hesitant, unsure if he should stay or turn away before he was spotted. By his luck only, before he made his mind up, Nino noticed him too. He stood up. They awkwardly watched each other for a few moments from a distance until Nino motioned Adrien to sit at his table.

“Do you want a small talk or we could just-“

“Let’s skip it,” Adrien shrugged, settling in the chair.

“Straight to the issue?”

“Why not?” 

“I’m all up for it.”

“Me too.”

“Would you like to order?” a waiter interrupted with a smile on his face. Both men nodded and placed their orders yet as the guy left no one rushed to break the silence.

“So,” Nino finally gave in. “If we aren’t holding back and telling as it is- I still think you acted like the last jerk but I do owe you an apology because it looks like your intuition was right after all- about working with your father ruining Marinette’s life. That—” Nino inhaled deeply, “—was quite an accurate prediction. Actually, maybe an understatement.”

“I saw that happening too many, Nino, to do nothing,” Adrien sighed. “People having nervous breakdowns over a stupid deadline that was set a few days earlier anyway. People barely surviving because of a dress that was added at the last minute and the fabric that had to be personally flown in from Tibet. People doing a job for two or three on a tight schedule because their assistants couldn’t take it anymore and quit. Just thinking that Marinette could end up in their place– I couldn’t let it happen to her.” Adrien paused, his eyes focusing on the napkin he fidgeted with. “That’s why I did what I did. I only tried to save her from that hell.”

“Uh-huh. And what about the rest?”

Adrien frowned. “What rest?”

“Your second email. Up until you sent that, I’d thought all this might’ve blown over. Then we got  _ that  _ and- I knew there was no hope I’d ever get the girls to talk to you. Not only did you try to destroy Marinette’s life’s dream but- man, you called her some absolutely horrible things. Like did you really have to do that? The nasty word choices for me too- We  _ had _ to block you, we had to keep that sort of toxicity away.”

“I don’t understand, Nino. I’ve never said a single bad word to you. The only thing I emailed you guys—” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose, “—were the apologies and explanations, Nino. I would never insult you. None of you. Especially Marinette. I already-“

“Oh really?” Nino lifted his phone and read aloud. “ ‘A tactless, clumsy baker’s daughter with no self-worth and dignity, a stalker and a freak, an idiot who has her head in a gutter and has absolutely no chance with you because she isn’t worth even a single of your toenails’. That’s only a little fraction. I have it right here. You wrote similar stuff to  _ all  _ of us, but went especially nasty on Marinette.”

For a moment, it seemed like everything stopped and even the people on the nearby tables could feel the tension.

“I-” Adrien couldn’t overcome the shock as he stared at Nino. “I have no idea- What’s going on? Nino- I never sent anything like that.”

Nino handed over his phone. “Take a read for yourself. If it wasn’t you, then who was it? Because that’s your private email address.” 

Adrien froze, his eyes running feverishly over the words on Nino’s cell. For a few minutes he read, then blankly stared at the device in his hands for a few more. “I- I don’t understand. I would never say these things. I would never even  _ think  _ these things. ‘A good for nothing goodie-two-shoes who has absolutely no future because those ugly headphones destroyed your brain with my tasteless, awful music’? Nino, I couldn’t! You know me better than this, you know I would never-”

“I  _ thought  _ I knew you, Adrien,” Nino retorted. “But check the address. That’s the private email you made specifically for the four of us. No one else had access to it but you.”  

“This has to be a mistake,” Adrien whispered after in a short while. “I didn’t write this. I just couldn’t. You were my best friends and even being angry at each other I never once thought such horrible things about any of you.” His eyes narrowed at something. “That even isn’t true,” he mumbled in confusion. “I always loved your music and admired Alya’s ability to dig up the scoops. And Marinette’s talent- you know as well as anyone else, I was one of her greatest fans.” 

Nino sighed. “Until you betrayed her that is, cause coming from you it felt a thousand times worse. I mean, even with all the bullying Chloe subjected her to, nobody hurt her more than you did-“

Something clicked at the sound of that name and everything else Nino was saying faded away as memories flowed into Adrien’s mind. Memories of a broken boy who was feeling miserable and betrayed and lonely. Memories of the only one of his remaining friends, Chloe Bourgeois, visiting him and trying to distract him and staying alone in his room on numerous occasions when he was either called by his father or haven’t come home yet. He trusted her enough for that at that time. She was, after all, the only one who hadn’t abandoned him. He never thought of putting a password on his personal computer in his room. There was no need. Father could monitor it distantly if he wanted and no one apart from his closest friends was allowed to visit him. Certainly not to stay alone in his room.

“Chloe,” Adrien whispered and looked back at the email he  _ didn’t _ send. He scanned it again and sadly chuckling closed his eyes because only now he noticed specific words, opinions, and expressions that tied themselves to a specific girl who used them on a daily basis around him. Of course. Of freaking course, it was her.

“Chloe?” Nino echoed, then laughed bitterly. “Chloe at her worst couldn't have hurt us as much as you did.”

“Unless she was pretending to be me. She stayed in my room unattended a few times after the whole mess,” Adrien replied. For a few seconds, he hesitated but then seeing Nino’s silent question on his face, continued. “Nino, listen. You knew me best back then. Can you tell me right now when we’re more or less calmed down that you  _ really _ believe that I could’ve written this?”

No answer followed as Nino’s eyes shifted to the side.

“Can you?” Adrien repeated only to be met with a few more moments of silence.

“This is so messed up,” Nino finally murmured under his breath, refusing to look at his former best friend. He ran his hand through his hair and groaned but then straightened up and returned Adrien's look. "I guess we all have our moments when we are too angry to judge rationally but this is in no way an excuse. I should’ve had more faith in you, Adrien. I’m sorry.”

“I guess it also was happening too fast, too much, all together. Not much time to see what’s wrong and what’s right,” Adrien responded quietly, his mind wandering in  _ what if _ territory. “I should’ve tried harder as well, Nino, instead of accepting that you were indeed abandoning me at the first opportunity.”

“Chloe’s words as well?”

“I am sure that’s what she sincerely believed,” Adrien shrugged. “And the email was, probably, her way to express her wrath towards you on my behalf.”

“She impersonated you, Adrien,” Nino hissed. “Why are you still defending her?”

“Well,  _ she _ believed me when no one else did,” Adrien couldn't help but snap. He took a second to recompose himself and continued. “I just know her. Chloe is many things but she would never hurt her friends on purpose. Not me, at least. I’m sure-“

“I see you didn’t lose that naivety. You always were too kind and naive for your own good. I guess I forgot that in all this mess.” Nino sadly chuckled and finished the last of his coffee. “So what’s now?”

“Well,” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he wasn’t able to quit. “You wanted to know about Marinette?”

“I did but it doesn’t matter anymore,” Nino responded. “Alya was finally able to reach her and they are having lunch together as we speak.”

“So technically we didn’t have to meet?”

“Technically no,” Nino said. “But I was curious about what else you were right about apart from Gabriel’s effect on Marinette. And now when we finally know who the real dick in this story is do we go our separate ways and forget each other-”

“Can’t argue there, Nino,” Adrien retorted. “It also took you years to finally text me.”

“Do you really need to rub it in?”

“We used to be best friends for years but I guess you didn’t know me that well after all. First sign of doubt and you all turned against me.”

Nino sighed. “Completely deserved. You have every right to be angry. So let’s just leave it at that.” Nino grabbed his phone and pushed back his chair in preparation to stand. “Thanks for meeting me, even if it was for old times sake.”

“I  _ am  _ angry, Nino. I’ve been angry for years. Completely pissed. But you know what?”

Nino hesitated. “What?”

“We did use to have a blast together,” Adrien said, remembering the old times. “With everything that’s happened, with my father’s death and the company, I could really use a friend right now.”

A tiny ray of hope lit up on Nino’s face. “Yeah?”

“Maybe, we can try and go slow and see if this can be rebuilt- if you want?

“It’s not like I’m innocent in this mess,” Adrien sighed. “Plus, you were the best friend I ever had. There has to be something we can salvage.”

“You  _ are _ too good for this world, Adrien,” Nino smiled after a moment of hesitation and stretched his hand over the table. “If you want to give this former idiot of a friend another chance, I’d love to try again.”

“Sounds good to me,” Adrien smiled in return and shook Nino’s hand. Much later, lying in his bed, he would analyze and think and wonder, what was it that made him jump in front of everyone and offer a reconciliation? Was Nino right and he was indeed too naive for his own good? Why was he  _ so _ desperate to finally reconnect with friends who used to be so dear to him but doubted him at the first mishap? What pushed him? Underlying physiological issues? Inexplicable and uncontrollable longing for acceptance and love? Something else too complicated for him to understand and recognize? Or maybe it was just useful to have a comrade in his  _ Help Marinette _ quest, someone she actually trusted. He didn’t know. The future shall show but for now, Adrien would lie if he would say that he wasn't excited about this new development. His fondest memories were tied to Nino, Alya, and Marinette. He wasn't sure about the girls yet but Nino was the first step to a better, less lonely future.

Hopefully, because Adrien was rarely that lucky.

*       *       *

“I really don’t want to do this,” Adrien murmured under his nose, standing in front of his childhood home.

“Then don’t!” Plagg groaned from his collar.

“But I promised Marinette.”

“Then do it!”

“Gah!” Adrien whimpered. “You aren’t any help, Plagg.”

“Being helpful isn’t in my job description,” Plagg muttered out and flew back into his pocket where it was nice and cozy and smelled like Camembert and he could prolong his morning nap while his wielder continued to stand and pointlessly stare at the house.

Memories alone made him sick to his stomach yet Adrien promised and while the ghosts of past were still hunting him, the living ones were counting on his word. So gathering his will and practically forcing himself, Adrien turned the key and entered an empty mansion he hadn’t visited ever since he moved out. Luckily for him, Gabriel had a good, long-time friend who happened to be their family lawyer and whom Adrien trusted immensely. After his father’s death, he handled all the necessary procedures without having the younger Agreste making a single step inside the mansion that now was being prepared for sale. Gabriel's possessions were still untouched and were scheduled to be sorted out and removed in a few weeks before the showings would start but for now, everything was in the places Gabriel left them.

The emptiness and coldness of the entry hall was nothing new to Adrien. He quickly walked across it to the office, not wanting to spend more time than needed at this miserable place. The room looked just like always, minimalist, cold design, barren of any comfort and warmth. The table still harbored a few folders. There were a couple more on the shelves. A few random things lying around. A plant that wasn't watered ever since Nathalie quit, quietly dying in the corner.

Briskly walking, Adrien reached the table and opened the folders. None of them were what he needed. He looked at the other ones on the shelves. No luck again. Looking around he noticed a drawer in the table and opened it. Inside were a couple of files and a slim white box. He pushed the box out of the way and took the folders out. To his relief, three of those were exactly what he needed. 

“Perfect,” Adrien sighed under his breath and tried to shove the remaining ones back into the drawer but something was obstructing them. He quickly reached in and pulled the box out. It was nothing unique, really. A regular box his Father used for his jewelry collection yet even after the files were back in their place his eyes were still focused on the box. Something about it was just so enigmatic. Something drew him in. Something he couldn’t explain. He carefully took the lid off.

The bright electric orb he already saw once in his life appeared straight away and a moment later a little purple kwami with wings appeared. At first, his eyes were lowered to the floor but once he looked up and saw Adrien a surprise, no, even shock, was clear.

“Ma- Master?” he whispered.

“Nooroo! Old pal!” Plagg zoomed from Adrien’s pocket and crushed the little guy in his embrace. “So that’s where you were hiding all this time?”

“Pl-Pla-Plagg?” Nooro squeaked.

“Nooroo?” Adrien echoed.

“Yup, my old pal, Nooroo,” Plagg punched the scared creature’s shoulder. “Hawkmoth’s kwami.”

Adrien sharply inhaled as the purple butterfly raised his big, sad eyes at Adrien and quietly asked, “Where is my Master?”

“Who is he?” Adrien asked, his mind still processing the information. “What’s the name of your Master?”

“Gabriel,” the kwami muttered. “Gabriel Agreste,” he barely breathed out as the world shuddered beneath Adrien’s feet.


	9. Olive Branch

By the time Alya came home from her lunch with Marinette she was way beyond _tired._

The meeting with her upset friend had left her exhausted and shaken. She had walked into the dragon’s den without any clue on her friend’s mindset, without the slightest idea of how their conversation would end. Would they be able to mend their friendship, or had they let things go too far for their bond to be beyond repair?

Thankfully, the worst had been avoided. Marinette had been willing to listen to her apologies, and even had opened up a little about her current living arrangements. True, she had been very vague about them, especially about that mysterious friend helping her out, but that was a start.

Marinette hadn’t shut her out.

They could fix this mess.

But the entire encounter had been draining, and she had come home to an antsy Nino that had some shocking news of his own, forcing her to deal with the conflicting emotions the unexpected return of Adrien Agreste in their lives was stirring within her.

Alya plopped herself down on their couch and stared at Nino with a blank expression.

“Are you absolutely _sure_ about what you texted me? This entire mess was _really_ nothing but a huge and ugly misunderstanding?”

Her fiancé nodded, seating himself beside her on their couch. “I’m sure. When you really think about it, that makes much more sense. I’m not even sure Adrien _knew_ some of the swears that were in that email.” He sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. “This is so messed up. We just shut Adrien out, without giving him a chance to explain himself or his blatantly out-of-character actions.”

"Nuh-ah, Nino. No way. Why now of all times? What's his angle?" she protested, shaking her head.

"Why now? Maybe because we're actually talking to him now? Well, I am. What else was he supposed to do, Alya? From his point of view, we basically told him to piss off and never talk to us again. He was only doing what we wanted,” Nino argued.

“We were _all_ hurt, and that stupid email kinda sealed his fate. But...” Alya sighed, propping her feet on the coffee table. “Yeah. Okay. I concede that point.” She huffed and scrubbed her face with both hands. “In hindsight, I do kinda feel bad for him. Poor guy must have been so confused about how big this whole thing blew up. I hate to blame his father, but the way Adrien was raised had probably played a huge role in this whole mess.”

Nino shrugged, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t I know it?” he whined. “The guy was only trying to protect Mari from his father, and we all abandoned him without even an explanation. What kind of best friend am I if I couldn’t even see that the words in that email weren't his?”

Alya sighed, “Marinette won’t be pleased about all this. She let herself judge too harshly and didn't give him a chance to explain himself. Once she realizes she threw away years of friendship based on assumptions alone, she’ll be mortified, and might be reluctant to admit her wrongs straight away.”

“I think we still owe it to Adrien to tell her,” Nino countered. “She needs to know.”

“I agree. Let's start with telling her that Adrien didn’t write that email, hopefully she’ll believe us. That might get her to start the process of forgiving him and we'll see how it goes from there,” Alya summed up.

They sat in silence, side by side on their couch, both pondering how they could solve that messy situation.

“There might be a way to prove to Marinette that Adrien didn’t write those nasty things about us. He’d still be on his own for her application file, though, but I think if he plays his cards well he _could_ get her to forgive him someday,” Nino eventually said, prompting Alya to stare at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

“And how do you offer we are going to do such a thing, Sherlock?” she asked, dumbfounded.

Nino, on the other hand, grinned. “Think about it, Al. The mansion like Adrien’s had to have cameras _everywhere_ . You should've seen his security system! It's like out of this world so the cameras were there for sure. I still have that email, so we know _exactly_ when it has been sent.”

“That’s perfect, genius,” Alya chuckled disbelievingly. “Except that Gabriel is dead and you said that Adrien doesn’t want to go anywhere within a mile radius from the mansion. There is no way we are going to have access to those cameras. Plus, it’s been years, it’s probably long gone.”

Nino shook his head. “Adrien once mentioned that his father kept like a decade of footage of every single building he ever worked in, in case he ever had to face plagiarism charges. There was only one camera in Adrien’s bedroom, though, aimed at his computer to monitor the time he spent on homework and to be sure he wasn’t watching anything… inappropriate.”

“How invasive,” Alya sighed. “Old Gabe had never heard of parental controls?”

“Didn’t trust them. Said that Adrien was smart enough to go around them,” Nino shrugged. “Then again, that works in our favour, so I guess thanks for Gabriel Agreste trust issues.”

“Doesn’t solve the fact that we have absolutely no way to _access_ those records. And if you tell Adrien what we are trying to do, Marinette will think that he tampered with the footage. Bringing us back to square one.”

Nino’s grin widened even further. There it was. Their chance to mend Marinette and Adrien’s relationship, if there was still a tiny glimmer of hope for their quartet to be a thing ever again.

“Maybe not. But I know someone who can hack into the NASA before breakfast with an arm tied behind his back: Max Kante.”

For a moment Alya considered Nino’s offer. “Alright,” she finally agreed. “But we are doing it only if Marinette doesn't believe our word, deal?”

“Deal.”

* * *

Ladybug landed on the Eiffel Tower beam with a soft thud around nine p.m. on Sunday evening, her gaze enveloping Chat Noir in a loving embrace. She loved that man so much, her heart warming up at the simple sight of the cat ears peeking through his wild blond mane. “You’re here early, _chaton._ ”

He shifted toward her, lifting a hard gaze her way. “He’s gone, bug.”

She paused when she saw his angered expression, scooting closer to him on the beam and gathering his face between her open palms. “Chat? Kitty? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“He’s gone. That bastard is gone, and I can’t even explain it to you.” He had a dry, angry laugh.  “How fitting. He’s ruining my life even from beyond the grave.”

Tears suddenly spilled over his mask with a choked sob, and he dissolved into a teary mess in her hands. Taken aback by the sudden shift in his mood, she hugged him to her heart, cradling him like she would’ve done with an upset child and softly stroking his hair.

He cried for what seemed like hours, sobbing violently in the crook of her neck, his fists bumped into tight balls in her back. He was hiccupping violently, broken sobs tearing out of his throat, and Ladybug felt her own heart shattering in her chest.

Her partner was hurting, and there was nothing she could do to help him. And she hated it.

Ladybug rocked him through his meltdown, holding him up in the storm as he was seemingly freefalling, his emotions choking him and making it hard to breathe.

“Chaton?” she eventually asked, when his sobbing subdued to quiet sniffing. “Chaton, talk to me. What’s wrong? Who’s gone?”

He stiffened in her hold, but let his head rest against her collarbone limply. “Chat? Chat? Are you okay? You are worrying me.”

He let out a pitiful sob, and curled up against her chest, his hands clinging to her even tighter than before. “He’s dead, bugaboo,” he whimpered. “That bastard is dead and I just don’t _know_ what to do or how to deal with it.”

Understanding that he was upset over the relative he had recently lost, she knew that he just needed someone to listen to him, someone to lean on to for a bit.

“I’m here,” Ladybug cooed in his ear, stifling the selfish urge to kiss him better. “I’m right here, kitty cat, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll go through this together, okay?”

She kept him like this, sobbing in the crook of her neck, until the crying eventually subdued to quiet hiccups, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

“I’m right here,” she assured him again, allowing herself to press a chaste kiss on the crown of his head. “We are partners, through thick and thin.”

“For better and for worse.” His pitiful whimper was enough of an answer for her. She held him as he clung to her for comfort, and gently drew small circles in his back through the leather of his suit.

Chat Noir shifted within her embrace, sitting a little bit straighter on the beam. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare start apologizing,” Ladybug answered flatly. “You’re obviously going through some really hard times. You’d do the same for me in a heartbeat, kitty. You’ve been there for me through rough patches before. I’ll do the same for you.”  

She smiled and nudged him with her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. “Wanna race? We both could use some playtime.”

His grin was slow to appear, and she felt that he had to force himself a little, but he eventually stretched his long legs in front of him. “The first at the Arc de Triomphe wins?”

“Nope, catch me if you can!” and with those words she was flying into the sky, the hoarse laugh of Chat Noir chasing her.

* * *

Chat Noir landed on her balcony right as the clock ticked on the agreed time on Monday evening, and Marinette happily opened the door when she heard the familiar sound of boots hitting the concrete. He seemed calmer than he had been the night prior, more collected, but somewhat exhausted.

She had woken up late that morning, having had quite a fight with her hairbrush upon coming home from their impromptu race, strands of black hair sticking in every direction and framing her flushed cheeks. But it had been worth it, to hear his breathless laughs as he chased her on rooftops, and to see his brilliant grin finally appear when he wrapped his arms around her, chuckling a soft, “Gotcha, bug,” in her ear.

She had been so tempted to destroy the few last barriers that still stood between them at that moment. To cross the heartbeat between their lips, to let go of masks and pretenses and tell him that she loved him. Heart, body and soul. She wanted so bad to belong to him, to start a new life for both of them. Find a cute little house with a white picket fence, get married, maybe have a child or three, she’d even trade the hamster in for a cat if that made him happy.

Because that’s all she wanted him to be. _Happy._

Hopefully, by her side.

She had resisted. The moment hadn’t been right, not with him grieving for his family. She didn’t want to add to his obviously full plate of problems and the hope to find a better (and more romantic) time and place for that long overdue reveal.

“Evening, princess,” he greeted, unaware of her rambling thoughts and flashing a smile her way that looked every single bit fake. “I don’t know what’s on the menu, but it smells truly amazing.”

Her own smile faltered in response to his, and she promptly turned her back to him to keep herself from commenting on it, marching to the kitchen with what she _hoped_ was a determinate step. “You mentioned you were lacking in cooking skills. So I figured you must not be eating slow roasts that often.”

It was unfair that he had that kind of effect on her both in and outside the mask. As Ladybug,  she could hug him, stroke his hair to soothe him. They were partners, best friends, and physical contact was a thing they were dealing with daily. How many times had they gotten tied up together, and many times had they launched each other toward an akuma?

How many evenings had he held her to his chest as she spoke about Alya, about her friendship bursting out at the seams? How many times had she dug her fingers in his hair to comfort him after a rough week, how many cuddles they shared away from prying eyes in the past few years?

As Ladybug and Chat Noir, their relationship was shifting, and it was exhilarating. They weren’t _just_ friends anymore, but they had yet to slap a label on _what_ they were. They were exploring this new side of their bond together, pushing the limits a little further every now and then and playing it by the ear.

They _trusted_ each other more than anything in the world.

Things would fall into place in due time.

As Marinette, though, she had no right to feel that way. No right to want to wrap her arms around him, to wish she could know what was going on in that handsome head of his. Wish she could soothe whatever pain he had been the night prior, wish she could pry into his civilian life and help him out.

She focused on the vegetables cooking in a steamer basket, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to get her furiously beating heart in check. He crept up beside her, leaning against the kitchen counter and studying her carefully.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” he asked, his voice soft with worry. “I really didn’t want to add to your already full schedule, I’m being a bother, aren’t I?”

She giggled, lifting her gaze toward him at last. “Don’t you dare go anywhere, Chat Noir.”

“But-”

She didn’t give him time to go further with his objection, only shaking her head as she took plates out of the cupboard and retrieved oven mitts from a nearby hook. “Work has been harsh, lately, as you know it. My assistant quit, as most of the good employees did, so I’m kinda on my own to handle everything. I’m exhausted, but I’m gonna make it. Honestly, having a _good_ reason to leave work and come home to cook will probably save me from the asylum. Besides, you kinda look like you need a friend right now.”

Her eyes were trained on the wooden spoon in her hand as she spoke, but she felt Chat shift beside her. He tensed, looking at her intently, and she could almost feel his eyes searching through his soul.

“Thanks.”

The word tumbled from his lips, unbidden, a simple acknowledgement that he, indeed, needed a shoulder to lean on, and Marinette felt her heart constrict in her chest.

Chat Noir smiled shyly, an expression that oddly seemed out of place on her exuberant partner. “I’m… I’m going through a rough patch right now. I’ll be fine though, don’t worry.”

By the time he was finished speaking, he was standing right in front of her, his fingers merely an inch from hers. “I really appreciate your concern, though, Marinette. Thank you.”

His carefully crafted façade tremored for a brief second, and it broke Marinette’s heart. Did he have anyone to talk to, outside of the mask? Did someone care for him? Did anyone worry whenever he came home late?

Plastering the brightest, fakest smile she could muster on her face, Marinette spun around with two full plates of food. “No problem! Are you hungry? Because I’m starving. And I bought Ultimate Mecha Strike VI today, so you could attempt to beat me.”

The smile he flashed her right then was the first genuine one she’d seen on his face in two days.


	10. Announcement

Dear Miraculous Readers,

 

It is with heavy hearts that we come to you with some tragic news about one of our own fandom members, the wonderful, kind, talented Maerynn.

Sadly, last week, we received word that Maerynn was involved in a car accident and tragically passed away.

Mae enriched the Miraculous fandom as an amazing writer. Her works included “A Beautiful Mistake”, “Both of You”, “Bring Me Home”, as well as various collabs such as “Under Lock and Key” with Eden Daphne, “The Other You” with Totally Lucky, and “Broken” with BBWoulfC

Our hearts go out to her family during this terrible time. We ask you all to please be respectful. Questions pertaining to her unfinished stories and collaborations will be answered in due course, but now is not the time to be thinking of such things.

Instead, we ask you to remember her, join us in our grief and sorrow, but also celebrate the irreplaceable contributions she made to the fandom, and think fondly of the space she made in our hearts. For many of us, Mae wasn’t just a talented writer, she was also a true friend, someone who cried with us during bad times and laughed with us during good ones. She was always there, and the fandom doesn’t feel the same without her.

Below, feel free to offer your condolences or your favourite memories of Mae, or even quote your favourite part of her stories. We will do our best to pass on well wishes and love to her family.

We know many of you will be confused and devastated by this news, as we are. Out of respect, we will not be giving out any more information on her private life.

She will be forever loved and missed.

 

With love,

 

Eden (EdenDaphne)

Midnight (midnightstarlightwrites)

Lucky (Totally_Lucky on Ao3, @chocoluckchipz at Tumblr)

Ray (BBWoulfC)

Kry (KryallaOrchid)

Liz (Eizabet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of you might be wondering what will happen to "The Other You" with Maerynn gone. We developed an outline for the whole story a long time ago and I want all our readers to be able to read and enjoy her hard work and her amazing ideas so I will continue to work on updating this story with the help of some of our close friends.I believe that's what Mae would have wanted. 
> 
> Please, be conscientious of the grieving we're going through and understand that it may take a while to get the next chapter up. Especially since, as many of you know, I am currently on a writing hiatus myself, due to the school workload, until the end of April - start of May. So, please, don't expect updates before then. 
> 
> Having her leave so suddenly has been very difficult. She was very dear to us.
> 
> Thank you for understanding.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: English is a strange and wonderful language where many words have multiple meanings and slang can change depending on your country of origin. It is respectively our second and third language so while we do our very best, there may be mistakes made along the way. If you notice any miscommunications or incorrect word usage, help two girls out.


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